Essentially Magical
by Sweetie7smiled
Summary: When Edward & Bella unexpectedly find themselves transported into the presence of Albus Dumbledore, they begin to discover a fascinating new realm of possibilities that neither world could have anticipated. Canon-loyal to *both* series' characters and worlds; gives whole new meaning to things we thought we knew. Post-Eclipse; companion to BD. End of GOF; redeems HP.
1. Prologue

**Essentially Magical**

Romance; Discovery; Spirituality; Family; Adventure; Horror; Hurt/Comfort; Humor

a Twilight/Harry Potter Crossover

* * *

><p>Honor goes to Stephenie Meyer, first and foremost, for her unsurpassed gem of a story as experienced in the entirety of her Twilight series. 'Greater love hath no man than this…' is the supremely precious unspoken truth at the heart of it. <span>Thank You<span>, _so much_, for putting it all into _words_!

But also to J. K. Rowling, whose magical Harry Potter universe is so delightfully full of profound parabolic symbolism that it lent itself willingly to the uniting of the worlds in the creation of this story.

Thank You!

Finally, though it's true that many of the details I have written into this tale – along with its tangent storyettes – are indeed _fiction_… the devotion of the characters and the reality of their challenges, are _not_. Sometimes, it behooves us to run with a good example when we find one. This is just my way of shining their light.

Please enjoy!

* * *

><p>* * * Prologue * * *<p>

Owing to the fact that vampires of the undead have proven themselves to be extremely dangerous even to wizards (not-so-apparently due to the tendency of magical persons to display their awareness of the vampires' existence while, underneath all the magic, still being devastatingly human), the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on their movements in order to protect the greater wizarding world from accidental encounters with them. They do this by magically monitoring airports and political boundaries to report on any such vampire activity. As a result, the European Ministry of Magic has learned to be able to distinguish them for tracking by their lack of heartbeat. Aside from that, though it is not known first-hand what these vampires actually _look_ like, they have heard rumors of their red eyes and beauty.

Among the things that have been observed over time (in addition to their supernatural speed, the fact that no magic has ever been attributed to them, and the tendency they have for traveling in groups of only rarely more than 2) is the fact that no human (magical or otherwise) remaining in the company of a vampire has _ever_ lived very long, and more specifically: no human ever traveling in the company of a vampire _towards Volterra_ (presumably a capital of some sort) has ever come back out. Thus, when during one typically bustling Spring day the monitoring systems at the Ministry of Magic report that a human traveling in company with a vampire has left the States and entered into Volterra, only to _reemerge_ hours later in company with the same vampire _and_ _one other_ to return apparently unharmed back to where she came from, it catches their attention (and subsequently, the attention of Albus Dumbledore – who keeps an ear out for anomalies such as this).

Following up on this tip with a bit of his own research, Albus manages to find out (from the corresponding muggle flight logs) what the names are of those involved, in hopes of learning more, over time, about how they may be different. Over the next couple of months he keeps tabs on the news around where they presumably live – making note of the vampires' apparent relation to the Forks' town doctor (and the surprising _lack_ of correspondingly expected obituaries) while also monitoring the recent 'animal attacks' near Forks and the alarmingly supernatural murder spree going on in Seattle. Regrettably, the nearest magical tracking boundaries surround the entire state of _Washington_, and so it is difficult to determine anything precise from the widespread pattern of vampire activity that crosses it. However, when it is clearly indicated that _Bella Swan_ and her father (the Chief of Police in Forks, whom she lives with) continue to personally associate with these vampires on a _constant_ basis, yet have evidently remained unharmed during all this time… his curiosity is piqued.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So... I have finally decided to start posting after all, even though my story remains a work-in-progress. FYI: It is my hope to publish a new chapter every couple of weeks, and by so doing, give myself time to write most of the rest of it so there won't end up having to be longer lapses between updates in the future. So you know: The major plotline of this story _is_ all planned through to a quite satisfying end (if I do say so myself), and the same can be said of its sister story (which will get published in coordination with this one, as the timeline dictates). Only minor plot points and details still need to be fleshed out as I write, though I do tend to be slow about getting it all out properly (it usually takes me 1-2 months to produce a new chapter). I'm hoping that positive reviews can help speed this process along. :) This story is currently earmarked to be 36 chapters long, 20 of which are already written, but I expect it will turn out to be quite a bit longer before I'm done.

If you are interested to know what I look for in a story, and thus what I expect of my own, please feel free to check out my profile for an explanation! I will also keep progress updates posted there.

Helpful reviews are welcome! Thanks for reading!


	2. Surprise Visit

* * * Surprise Visit * * *

While Edward and Bella are spending some quiet time together, sometime during the late morning of the pleasantly normal day of June 24 (approximately one week post-Eclipse, before Jacob runs), they both suddenly feel an odd sensation pulling at their navels- and instantly find themselves standing upon the unfamiliar lawn of some foreign institution… in the midst of what Edward observes to be a 10-foot-wide ring of fire. Instantly on high alert and disoriented from the unprecedented experience, Edward quickly assumes a steadying and protective stance hugging Bella while he tries to ascertain where they are and exactly what is going on. His senses range outward in order to pick up every clue.

It seems that every sentient thought or scent in the area is coming from someone totally new to him, _and_ who is apparently unaware of their presence, with the exception of those coming from the only person in close enough proximity to have seen their appearance. Fifty feet to the side of them stands an alert older man, dressed in strange robes and sporting a very long gray beard, who is watching them with amazement through a pair of half-moon spectacles. His thoughts reveal that, although he is quite familiar with the occurrence of people magically appearing and disappearing in front of him, and can do so himself, the presence of significant magical wards around this school which prevent such has made their appearance a singular event. Full of concern about what this means for the safety of his students, he cautiously approaches them.

Their spectator is able to observe the ring of defensive magic that is currently active around them, and supposes that this is part of a last-ditch effort made by the school's defenses in order to contain whatever intruding creature was unique and powerful enough to have been able to get past every other form of protection. Apparently, the ring's magical signature is that of an enhanced but non-aggressive shield charm which has been automatically activated to reflect an intruder's greatest defensive weakness back upon him, presumably for the purpose of initial containment as well as perhaps in order to obtain vital knowledge about him or her for effective magical defense (should that be deemed necessary). It indicates to him that _their_ greatest weakness takes the form of fire.

Edward is unsettled by the level of knowledge this evidently competent magician has already gained concerning them, and- considering the unfamiliarity of the magical environment- feels it best to retreat and learn more before risking a confrontation. The fire surrounding them prevents an easy exit, however. Their audience is watching too closely for him to be able to jump over the flames and run with her. Unsure of an alternative, Edward tenses and Bella notices.

She asks him what the problem is, and he whispers to her: "This place is infused with magic I've never heard of. I want to get you out of here, but he'd see if I jumped you over the flames."

She surprises him by whispering back: "What flames? I don't see anything."

He looks at her, shocked, but notices by her innocent expression that she truly doesn't sense them. The threat is undeniable to him. "There's a 10-foot-wide ring of fire surrounding us… are you _sure_ you don't see it?" He can see it, and smell it, and feel its heat.

"Yes," she replies confidently, though also confused. "There's nothing here," she continues, stretching her arm out toward them to prove the point. "Trust me," she encourages softly, when his protective response keeps her arm from extending completely. As he forces himself to relax his stance in reply, she steps out of his embrace (still holding his hand) and walks further forward with her hand outstretched, watching his expression carefully as she does so. His tension magnifies as her fingers approach and then mingle with the flames; he is struggling hard to resist the urge to pull her back from the threat that she says isn't there. She can tell by the pain in his expression when he thinks she's touched them. Pulling her hand back finally, she offers it to him so he can see for himself the lack of injury. He looks at her in tortured amazement.

"See? I'm perfectly alright. There's nothing to worry about. We can go through it. Please- let's just get out of here," she says quietly, tugging on his hand to encourage him to follow this time.

With a nervous gulp and a nod, he allows her to tug him along. He watches anxiously as she walks nonchalantly through the wall of flames, her perfectly undamaged hand still comfortably extended through them and holding onto his, while he feels the heat increase as he approaches. Even though he knows that fire wouldn't catch onto his unbroken body any quicker than it would a human's (making him safe enough so long as he doesn't stay long within it), he still doesn't relish the idea of going through it. However, unwilling to let Bella's arm remain in the flames even a moment longer, or to have the ring of fire separate him from his beloved, he closes his eyes and moves through it quickly- internally shuddering at the mental image of what he is doing.

Immediately on the other side of the flames, the late afternoon breeze is cool and wholly untainted by the scent of fire. Edward looks back to see that no flames are detectable from here, though a magical signature is visible. Looking back towards Bella with loving relief, he urges her to run at her human pace towards the nearest building corner where, as soon as they are hidden behind it, he picks her up and speeds off to a private corner of the grounds.

While doing so, he makes it a point to monitor the onlooker's parting thoughts.

The observant gentleman did notice that it was only the unusually handsome young man who had been particularly inclined to avoid the magical fire, and wonders how he was able to walk through the shield charm after such a response. He also recognized that, since it's often the more dangerous types of creatures that avoid fire above all else, the golden-eyed boy could probably have had a much less favorable response than just running away. On the other hand, _she_ didn't seem to be afraid of anything at all. That is very curious. Does she not _have_ a defensive weakness? That doesn't seem right; he was protecting her. On further thought, he also found it odd (considering the powerful magic of their sudden appearance), that not only were both of them dressed as muggles, but also that neither of them was holding a wand or looked as if they had ever apparated before. This was all highly unusual.

After taking a moment to confirm his suspicion that the mysterious couple actually _had_ disappeared to somewhere else on the grounds, and rather uncomfortable with the idea of having a potentially dangerous unknown remaining at large, the headmaster sends his patronus to bring them a message of hopeful good will- welcoming them to Hogwarts and the third task of the Triwizard Tournament and inviting them to come up to meet him at their earliest convenience, at which time he would enjoy pursuing proper introductions. Additionally, he calmly sends a request to the staff- that they let him know immediately if and when they come across anyone unfamiliar.

Feeling strangely vulnerable simply from finding themselves immersed in an unfamiliar place surrounded by the magical unknown, Edward & Bella take a long moment to sit and relax together (he holding her on his lap) in the fringes of the forest while they consider their options. They discover that his cell phone doesn't get any service here, and appreciate Albus Dumbledore's friendly (even if startling) magical message. Over the next couple of hours, Edward listens in to find out how much they can learn about this place- and gleans much fascinating information about the nature of magic and Hogwarts' community through his eavesdropping. (Apparently, there are about as many sentient minds in the forest [and even the lake!] as there are in the school.) He notes that the accents of these thoughts suggest they might be somewhere in the British Isles. He and Bella decide not to leave Hogwarts yet (to seek a conventional way home), in favor of finding out just how they got there in the first place and hopefully being able to return in like manner; it seems that these people would know, and aren't likely to be aggressive if they don't feel threatened.

Since this community is obviously more familiar with the supernatural than most humans are, and thus may be quicker to believe in the possibility of vampires, it seems they'll have to be especially careful not to arouse the wrong kind of suspicion. Already, Dumbledore has noted Edward's unique eye color and suspects that one of them is more than human; perhaps it would be of benefit to encourage observation of the traits he has that would _not_ link to vampire canon (particularly: his loving relationship with Bella, and the fact that he can read minds). Fortunately, his talent should allow him to pass himself off as an accomplished wizard quite nicely. Naturally, the two of them would simply be here visiting Hogwarts for the tournament- having heard of it while vacationing in the area, immediately after graduating from their school in America (with a specialty in Muggle Studies).

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thank you for your encouraging reviews! Enjoy!

Just a side-note of interest: The setup for this crossover was partially inspired by a similar situation presented in the 'The Graveyard' fanfiction by –FacelessxAuthor-. I found that within this circumstantial context, I was able to bring together the elements of both series in such a way as blesses both. So, thanks for the inspiration!


	3. Friendly Warning

* * * Friendly Warning * * *

Once the Triwizard Task has begun and activity upon the grounds has settled down for a while, Edward smuggles the both of them up into the back of the stands where they can remain (for the most part) comfortably unobserved. From there, he quietly points out and explains to Bella many of the magical wonders happening before them, marveling with her as he does so.

Before very long, it becomes evident that there is a plot surrounding the youngest champion of the Tournament, which would result in his death if it was allowed to come to fruition. Willing to do something to help them avoid it – so long as it doesn't take him away from Bella in the process (an action that would leave her vulnerable to potential danger, in a strange place no less) – and also interested in nurturing a favorable impression, he politely borrows some parchment and a quill from a studious witch nearby in order to write a quick note. Having inadvertently gained her attention in the process, he gratefully retreats back to his seat with Bella and waits until Hermione is distracted enough, once again, for him to fold it up as a paper airplane and inconspicuously launch it so that it lands in Dumbledore's hair.

Dumbledore is surprised and initially amused by the mischievous foreign object, until he reads what the note contains:

* * *

><p><em>Destroy this note, please.<em>

_This is not a joke. For your information:_

_He whom you call Alastor Moody is not who he appears to be. He is currently torturing champions and working to ensure that Harry Potter wins the tournament… because the prize is a portkey to the winner's death, and the resurrection of his master._

_Please heed my warning,_

_A friend, who wishes to remain anonymous_

* * *

><p>With growing alarm, he realizes that what is written herein is all-too-believable to be ignored, and requires immediate action. He looks up briefly in hopes of identifying who might have thrown it, and notes Edward &amp; Bella sitting in the stands behind everyone, apparently taking no notice of him as they animatedly observe the tournament. Promptly destroying the note magically before any of the other judges sitting next to him can take undue interest in it, he starts forward to do what he can.<p>

Edward & Bella watch from the stands as Dumbledore dispatches Professors Snape & McGonagall to inconspicuously apprehend the fake Moody, requesting that they check his flask for polyjuice potion (to confirm their suspicions) and subsequently keep him detained until he can return to interrogate their imposter properly. Meanwhile, Dumbledore hurries along the exit path into the center of the maze in order to investigate the tampered Triwizard Cup. Without touching it, he looks carefully at the embedded magic and recognizes that it has indeed been turned into an unauthorized portkey – pointed toward an unknown destination _outside Hogwarts_. As was authorized, however, it has been set to activate at precisely the moment the Triwizard Tournament _ends_ – which moment is determined, regrettably, by the first touch of a champion's hand upon it.

Knowing that he can't destroy the portkey because of its necessary significance in regards to the fulfillment of the Triwizard champions' magical contracts, Dumbledore rests his fingers on the Triwizard Cup and silently awaits whatever champion will come to claim it. As Harry & Cedric subsequently determine to share the championship and prepare to touch the cup jointly, he warns them of its unauthorized destination status (so they can be prepared) as well as his intent to accompany them, just in case. Presently, the three of them disappear out of the maze – presumably to reappear in the graveyard location Edward had observed in the mind of the imposter.

Not much time later, before any significant alarm has developed in relation to their whereabouts, Edward sees Dumbledore appear at the exit of the maze with Cedric & Harry – all of them apparently no worse for the wear. A moment later they are greeted by a stadium full of congratulations, and – following a brief detour for treatment by Madam Pomfrey – an obliviously smiling Cornelius Fudge steps forward to commence the awards ceremony.

As Edward is able to discern from listening to their thoughts, it seems that nothing much actually happened at the graveyard. No one showed up when they appeared, which Dumbledore suspects is because he was with them, and only a crack of disapparation shortly after they arrived hinted that there had been anyone there waiting for them at all. Harry and Cedric had helped Dumbledore scour the graveyard for any clues as to why they had been brought to this place, but hadn't found anything more of interest than the grave of Tom Riddle Sr. – the muggle father of Voldemort. Cedric had been thoroughly surprised to learn about that fact (which Harry had convincingly substantiated by pointing out the anagrammatic puzzle of his name), but Harry had been aware already and was anxiously interested in giving his two closest friends an update on the situation. Dumbledore, naturally suspicious of the probable dark magic that had been intended there, but also unaware of the particular details involved in the execution of it, was now mostly troubled by the fact that the whole thing still felt like as much of an urgent but unpredictable mystery as it had been from the very beginning.

At the close of the ceremony Dumbledore once again congratulates each of the winning champions, and glances curiously up at the pair of them once more, before discreetly removing himself from the excited surge of proud families and friends. Straightaway, he heads into the castle to interrogate the imposter (which Edward can tell by now has been identified as the convicted death eater, Barty Crouch Jr.). Apparently, in light of the benevolent nature of _their_ recently suspected and well-appreciated assistance, it seems the headmaster has decided that his former teacher constitutes the greater threat to the school and needs to be dealt with first.

Edward and Bella remain sitting in the background, watching and mingling pleasantly with a few interested passersby, as the rest of the stadium's occupants finally leave their seats and head toward the castle to commence the celebration.


	4. A Harrowing Experience

* * * A Harrowing Experience * * *

A short time later, after Dumbledore has completed his interrogation, he invites the Minister to follow suit, and briefly takes Harry aside to inform and warn him of the details of the thwarted plot against him. It has begun to grow dark, but Edward & Bella are still outside enjoying the peace and quiet of the evening together- walking hand-in-hand across the grounds unobserved while they wait for Dumbledore to be available. As such, they happen to be nearing the vicinity of Fudge (who is waiting at the castle steps) when the dementor that he summoned to accompany him shows up, inadvertently crossing their path.

Bella faints unexpectedly as the unfamiliar creature gets too close, rapidly feeling intensely cold in such a way as to be unable to distinguish Edward's touch on her skin, and leaving her with emotions akin to how she had felt when he left. She mumbles a few words to this effect, as if she was talking in her sleep while having a nightmare. Edward is at once alarmed, pained by her emotional state, and also tortured by the dementor's steal-every-happy-thought presence… but her warm touch against his skin, coupled with her scent and her heartbeat, keeps him aware that she's still here and alive with him- which, for him, is all that truly matters.

Having become aware of their unusual presence while feeding on the emotional environment, the dementor silently pauses to consider them, and Edward can hear its thoughts (which apparently are shared with all other dementors simultaneously, as if they were all of one mind). It recognizes the inherent vampire nature he has, as well as the devotion Bella holds for him, and decides it would be a mercy to give her the dementor's kiss rather than leave her soul to suffer an immensely worse fate such as the one they have known all too well. With this thought, the dementor turns to fix its blank face upon Bella's prone figure in Edward's arms, and glides forward with the singular intent of delivering its most devastating fortune.

Abruptly furious at not only this particular creature but simultaneously all other dementors who would dare to threaten her (and being aware that his actions in regards to this one will be heard by them all), Edward sets Bella gently on the ground and quickly steps protectively in front of her, reaching out with his left hand to firmly grab the dementor's throat and hold it immobile before him. As its hooded head subsequently turns to regard him, Edward fixes his eyes on it as if he were looking right through its eerily blank face, and boldly declares in no uncertain terms: "You cannot have her. I will not allow it!"

Some silent communication passes between them, and after an intense but brief moment, Edward releases the dementor suddenly (almost as if he has been burned) and quietly mumbles "Oh my God" as he watches it glide away- his expression a pained mix of shock, horror, and compassion.

As Edward turns back to gently pick up his unconscious fiancé, he scans the surrounding thoughts for anyone who might have witnessed their disturbing encounter. Cornelius Fudge, still standing in the light of the castle, had been attracted by the movement and muffled voices enough to observe that a white personage in the gloom was able to make his summoned dementor stop in its tracks. According to what he knows about dementors, this took a considerable amount of strength- and he's wondering how this person (presumably a student) was able to pull it off. Perhaps Dumbledore would know... or should be informed in case this student of his has been experimenting with strengthening charms. Those things can really get out of hand quickly.

From a bit further away in the opposite direction, near a shack by the forest, a wizard in canine form saw it all much more clearly. To him, the whole encounter had been backlit by the light shining from the castle, thus making it easy to view, and his canine ears were able to pick up the sounds which the Minister couldn't distinguish. Sirius had shuddered when he first sensed the approach of a dementor, and had been concerned for the sake of the couple out late and walking alone- especially when he saw it pause to consider them with interest. The interest of a dementor can never be a good thing. The problem was, he wasn't even able to _hold_ a wand in this form- and still being a fugitive (unjustly condemned for the crime he watched someone else commit), he couldn't show his face- and so he couldn't help them.

Thus it was with extreme surprise that he had watched the boy stand up to it without difficulty. As he knew all too well from first-hand experience, it was impossible for a human to stand up to a dementor like that. Even if it weren't for their emotionally debilitating presence and repulsively ice cold temperature, they were simply too strong to be resisted when they wanted something. This boy was obviously more than human... although, he had to admit, he _had_ been able to save his companion because of it. _Strange that he acted like he'd never met a dementor before, though... and, it seemed as if he never even considered pulling out his wand. Was he even a student here?_

Satisfied that no one, for the time being at least, knows enough to figure out what he really is (and anticipating that he won't be sticking around long enough to clue them in, thankfully), Edward turns his whole attention toward taking care of the unbelievably wonderful, but distressed, girl in his arms. Though he knows she has only fainted, he needs to bring her out of her nightmare as soon as possible. Approaching Fudge and the no-longer-threatening dementor with human swiftness, he politely (though unnecessarily) asks him to point them in the direction of the hospital wing- then sets off toward it using his best possible, though still inconspicuous, speed.

* * *

><p>A short while later, Bella wakes up to the desperately welcome feel of Edward's cold hand against her cheek- and finds herself laying on a bed in the hospital wing with him sitting in a chair by her side. She smiles at him wearily, and his answering smile of pleasure and relief sends a flood of warmth through her. With concern, she notes that his eyes have darkened considerably- almost as if he'd been drained somehow since she saw them last. Holding his hand all the while, she scoots herself into a sitting position as soon as she is able- not wanting to feel like an invalid for any longer than necessary, though still feeling the after-effects of the dementor's presence.<p>

As soon as she does so, Edward gives her a chunk of chocolate (broken off from an even larger chunk sitting on the bedside table) and insists she eat it, quoting with a smile: "Doctor's orders." He explains that apparently the proper medical treatment for the after-effects of such an invasively emotional attack is the consumption of copious amounts of chocolate. Who would have thought? (They chuckle together at this.) But then, how many 'normal' muggle hospitals have ever had to deal with something like this? As she begins to eat it, they are both amazed to see just how quickly and effectively the unlikely remedy truly does make the difference that brings the color back into her cheeks and the vitality back into her system. It's too bad the chocolate wouldn't do the same for Edward. She'll have to send him off to hunt again already, before very long.

As they converse during her recovery, Bella notices that Edward is feeling rather deeply troubled about something. Initially when she asks him about it, he is reluctant to answer- but as she pleads with him to come clean with it, he finally manages to quietly reply (without meeting her eyes): "It's the dementor. She would have taken your _soul_, Bella." After a tormented pause, he continues even more quietly: "And as absolutely as I disagree with her conclusions- I cannot fault her reasoning."

Bella is surprised at his comment and wary of the self-loathing tone of it. "You can't?" she whispers.

Edward answers quietly, sighing wearily: "No. She was trying to save you from _me_... from the misery of a fate not so unlike her own."

"What do you mean?" Bella speaks gently, her tone full of concern for the sadness apparent in his voice.

Edward finally looks up at her with agonized eyes: "Hers is a raped soul, Bella."

"Oh, Edward..." Bella replies, immediately understanding the nature of his torment and wanting to comfort him. She flings her arms around him and hugs him closely, hoping to communicate that she could never feel that way about him changing her into a vampire. "You _know_ I don't feel that way. You know I love you," she whispers into his shoulder, knowing that he will hear.

Edward whispers into her ear with deep emotion in his voice, as he wraps his arms around her and hugs her tightly: "I love you too, Bella."

Dumbledore walks wearily into the hospital wing at this point, having just come from confronting Fudge about his unfortunate choice of companion during his part of the 'interrogation'. The animated body of the confirmed deatheater, Barty Crouch Jr., now no longer has a soul. Although for one with Dumbledore's sensibilities that fact alone is awful enough- it doesn't help that Crouch's confession had also been their only tangible proof as to what plans and preparations had been put into motion for the imminent return of Lord Voldemort… or even that there _were_ any. Without his testimony, the ministry will not even stop to consider that there could be any threat of their greatest nemesis returning to power- and thus will never make the preparations necessary to avoid it. It is only a matter of time now, and according to the late deatheater- not much of it.

Dumbledore sighs, then discreetly smiles as he catches sight of Edward and Bella's embrace. At least Harry is safe, and Cedric, thanks to this mysterious couple. Though it was unfortunate that they'd had to encounter the dementor at all, at least it seemed she was recovering well enough. Curious, though, that he didn't seem to be affected. When Cornelius had informed him about the incident, he'd been half-heartedly chastised by the minister for letting his students 'soup themselves up on strength charms.' He chuckles internally. Oh how little he knew of the situation; this young man must be very strong. Dumbledore smiles more openly this time, and walks forward with interest to greet them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Please enjoy and review!


	5. Meeting Dumbledore

* * * Meeting Dumbledore * * *

Edward and Bella finally break apart to see Dumbledore striding forward to introduce himself, with an interested twinkle in his eye: "Welcome to Hogwarts! I'm Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of this School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Edward responds in kind, with a grateful smile- but not offering his cold hand: "Hello; it's nice to meet you. I'm Edward Cullen, and this is my fiancé, Bella Swan."

Immediately upon hearing their names, Dumbledore recognizes them to be two of the three people he followed up on subsequent to the Volterra report- and, with shock, knows that Edward is a vampire. He is taken quite by surprise, then, when he also realizes that Bella has just been introduced as his fiancé. His expression shows first disbelief and alarm, followed by surprise, and then wonder. Dumbledore notes that Edward is simultaneously surprised and alarmed, then wary, as if he somehow knows that Dumbledore suspects him. Thinking it best to get suspicions like this out in the open between them, finally Dumbledore discreetly remarks: "You are a vampire?"

Bella's face pales at his mention of the forbidden question, automatically worried for him. Edward, grateful for the headmaster's straightforward honesty but uncomfortable with his unexplained knowledge, is unwilling to confirm or deny it: "And what if I was?"

Still stunned at the implications, Dumbledore thinks first of the need to protect his school, and realizes abruptly that with the supernatural speed the vampire species is known to have (as well as the strength he has previously exhibited), there isn't really much he could do to prevent a catastrophe if Edward was of a mind to create it. In a pinch, it would seem that some kind of fire would be effective against him... though a successful attempt might require a spell powerful enough to be life-threatening for everyone else around him as well. _Such is the nature of fiendfyre._ Naturally, he wants to avoid those kinds of extremes if he can help it. Maybe having Fawkes nearby could provide some kind of deterrent? …though it would be a gamble as to how. The school's defenses have always been sufficient protection from such a threat before now, but somehow he has managed to get through them. Hopefully, the promising hints he's displayed toward a non-threatening character will prove to be true.

Albus wonders how: 1) a vampire could have gotten through the magical wards against them, 2) a muggle could have done the same, and 3) _anyone_ could have apparated into Hogwarts (a feat that no witch or wizard has ever been able to do without the aid of a certain rarely-domesticated species of magical creature [specifically: the phoenix]). "How did you manage to get in here? We have wards around this school to keep out vampires, as well as other dangerous magical creatures."

Edward, considering thoughtfully, hopes to assuage his worries by disclosing some careful truth: "Are these wards, by any chance, based on the detection of the dark habits such creatures are known for… such as a human-blood diet?"

Dumbledore is surprised and impressed. "Well- yes they are, actually..." _That was unexpected. __His diet is different? __Hmm, could that explain why his eyes aren't blood-red like every legend describes they should be? Although, it seems they are a much darker gold than I first thought. _With a building hopefulness, he continues: "We also have wards to keep out members of the non-magical community, such as you both appear to be."

Edward considers the fact that Bella hadn't even seen the shield charm he observed around them. "Hmm. Would these wards perhaps be based upon the creation of an illusion?"

Dumbledore is cautiously amazed. "They are."

"And the shield charm that was used?" Edward continues.

Dumbledore raises his eyebrow warily at Edward's familiarity with the term: "Ah- yes."

Edward then turns to address Bella, smiling lovingly. "It seems you're immune to _them_, too."

Bella smiles back at him while Dumbledore looks on with confused fascination before continuing bravely: "Alright then- how is it that you managed to appear right onto Hogwarts grounds when the protections around this school make that impossible for any wizard or witch to accomplish directly?"

Edward sighs. "I was hoping _you_ would be able to tell us the answer to that one. We don't know. Just exactly where in the world are we, anyway?"

Dumbledore answers as to the acceptable details of their location in Scotland, and Edward & Bella look at each other in amazement. He then asks in response: "You're from America, aren't you?"

Edward answers "Yes" while Bella nods.

Dumbledore pauses, speculating. "Have either of you ever done this before? Apparated, I mean, from one place to another?"

Edward answers "No" while Bella shakes her head.

Considering carefully, Dumbledore continues: "Hmmm. Just before you arrived, were either of you thinking about anything particular that might have brought you here?"

After pondering briefly, Edward turns the question to Bella- finding nothing like this in his own thoughts (other than wanting Bella to be happy- but that's nothing new): "What were you thinking about, Love, just before?"

"Um... Angela?" Bella replies skeptically. "I guess I was wishing there was some way she could join the party."

Edward pauses abruptly, recognizing her reference. "You were thinking about witches?"

Bella is slightly embarrassed at being brought into the spotlight. "Sort of, I guess... maybe wondering if there was a way to figure out if she _was_ one." Then, in response to Edward's surprised expression, she guesses: "Wait… you don't think _I_ brought us here, do you?"

Dumbledore is pleasantly amazed: "Actually, I think you just might have. Under normal circumstances, magic this powerful and far-reaching requires, at minimum, a wand with a powerful magical core- and someone to wield it. In circumstances such as these- considering the significant defenses that exist around this school- it requires the presence of a particularly powerful magical _creature_, which has both the inclination _and_ inherent ability to do so. It is very strange, though- I have never heard of magic being attributed to vampires… but, somehow… I think, between the two of you… you must have what it takes."

Edward gazes at Bella, smiling widely. "We make magic together."

Bella blushes profusely and smiles shyly in return, prompting Edward to stroke her cheek with the back of his finger as he grins crookedly at her.

Presently, the real Alastor Moody is finally escorted into the hospital wing, conspicuously sporting a few old scratches and some dried blood on his arm. Immediately concerned about the unknown but potentially disastrous possibility of Edward's reaction, being that he still doesn't know much about Edward or the nuances of _undead_ vampire nature, Dumbledore alertly glances in his direction.

Edward smiles understandingly and tells him, quietly: "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt anybody."

Dumbledore's expression of gratefully impressed/surprised curiosity begs to know: _How?_

Believing it best, for the sake of Dumbledore's peace of mind, to have the whole situation properly put into perspective, Edward quietly and solemnly states: "Next to Bella, no one else is even a temptation."

_And he loves her_, the headmaster recognizes with awe._ It has been evident in every glance he's given her. _Considering that this latest comment rather conclusively suggests just how strongly she appeals to him, as well as that she has evidently known about this aspect of his nature all along and obviously loves him back regardless, Dumbledore appraises Bella with a new sense of wonder, and respect. She, it seems, is the epitome of what Gryffindor stands for. "It is truly a pleasure to meet you!"

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks everyone for such wonderful support! It is inspiring!


	6. Seeing Ghosts

* * * Seeing Ghosts * * *

As soon as she has finished attending to her new patient across the room, Madam Pomfrey bustles over to check on Edward and Bella again, acknowledging the headmaster with a nod of her head in greeting as she does so. Eying the lump of chocolate on Bella's bedside table with a touch of disapproval, she notes that there is still too much left unconsumed for the healthiest recovery of both Edward _and_ Bella. She has seen Bella eating some from across the room, so at least _she's_ getting what she needs, but she hasn't seen the same of Edward and is a bit concerned as to his welfare. It is not uncommon for dementor attack victims to not realize how important the chocolate remedy really is for their recovery, and so she needs to make _sure_ they both are getting what they need.

As she stops to reiterate the importance of them each getting their share of the chocolate, prepared to insist that Edward take a bite in front of her before she will be satisfied that they're both on the road to recovery, she is taken aback by the force of Edward's polite smile and captivating gaze. Smoothly he assures her that Bella will make sure he gets what he needs, and somehow that assurance seems to be enough. Come to think of it, she almost feels a bit self-conscious now about waiting to watch him eat, because her thoughts are getting away from her and she shouldn't be thinking of a young man that way. Slightly flustered, she finally turns to go back to her nurse's station, passively convinced that he'll eat his share of the chocolate when she's not looking. It's probably best that way.

As soon as she's comfortably out of earshot, Bella accusingly teases him: "You charmer, you!"

Edward smiles at her indulgently and replies in a voice just loud enough for Albus to hear, standing nearby as he is: "Hey, it's better than eating dirt." His gaze wanders mischievously to the ragged lump of brown candy that is Bella's medicine. "I mean, really – how can you eat this stuff?" he teases, picking off a bite-size clump to offer her. "It even looks like dirt."

Bella accepts his offering with a smirk and pops it into her mouth, chewing happily. "It's very tasty dirt."

Edward chuckles, amused. "If you say so."

Albus watches their teasing exchange with incredulous amazement. _She is truly comfortable with him. A __vampire__. Just one glance from him had been enough to dissuade Madam Pomfrey from her usual doting thoroughness – though admittedly, not for a malicious reason. They are more subtly powerful than we've guessed. _Even seeing it right before his eyes, the positive existence of such an unlikely combination is still rather mind-bogglingly difficult to believe.

* * *

><p>Having still many more questions and unfinished business to complete between them, the three of them soon decide to retire to someplace private. Dumbledore initially thinks to bring them up to his office, but Edward catches his thought and realizes it would not be private enough for the ins and outs of a vampire conversation (due to its many portraits). After some internal deliberation, Dumbledore takes them instead toward the Room of Requirement (the elusive room he ran across recently, which he was pleased to discover the house elves knew all about) – where they will be able to set up their own perfect meeting place away from prying eyes or listening ears.<p>

While traversing the magically imbued corridors toward this destination, past multiple moving staircases, animated canvases or statues, and even a ghost or two (the presence of which they seem to accept with a fascinated casualness, as if they'd already known to expect such anomalies), Dumbledore becomes nervously aware of the few groups of chattering students they encounter, who promptly become silent and start to openly ogle the vampire in their midst as they pass by. _Thankfully__, _he notes, _Edward pays them no mind – and Bella just hugs him tighter. Curious._ Upon entering another passageway, however, the frenzied flight of an abnormally frightened Mrs. Norris catches his attention – and suggests the possibility that animals may be more keenly aware of the danger a vampire in their midst presents.

When the three of them pass through what Dumbledore has identified as the Muggle Studies corridor, however, Bella feels Edward suddenly freeze into stillness beside her. Dumbledore walks a couple of steps further along the deserted passageway before turning around to notice her look curiously first at Edward, then follow his wide-eyed gaze to gasp in amazement at a colorfully animated portrait on the wall, then look at him again with a sense of shared wonder, and finally to study the portrait herself with a keen sense of pleased interest. Edward still hasn't moved a muscle and so Bella takes it upon herself to break the ice, addressing the curious headmaster: "Mister Dumbledore?"

"Yes," he replies, smiling at her use of the unusual title.

"How is it that your portraits seem to be alive?" she asks curiously.

Intrigued by her sudden interest in this question, considering that they've passed so many other such portraits already, without comment – Dumbledore explains briefly, smiling: "When film is developed by using a certain magical potion, the picture animates in such a way as to reflect the essence of it's subjects. These reflections live, in a way, within the confines of their portrait universe – freely able to move between other portraits of their resident building, as well as between other pictures of their own anywhere in the world, and can interact with those of us who cross their path. Once their subjects become deceased, these reflections neither age nor change in any way – forever living in their own present time and place and able to recall all the memories of their lives up through their dying day. They are truly the embodiment of living history. It's a fascinating form of existence to contemplate."

Bella smiles with suppressed excitement. "Would you happen to know the story behind _this_ portrait?"

Dumbledore, taking note with twinkle-eyed interest that the couple depicted is apparently just as interested in Edward as he seems to be in them, answers her kindly. "I do, actually – this portrait was added shortly after I began teaching here. The photographer was one of my first students – a nice fellow, an artist at heart. He loved working with photographic muggle technology, and was one of the first to make extensive use of the animating potion that was invented along with it. He toured around the world for a while after he graduated, in order to see the sights and meet people – hoping as he did to find just the right subjects and places with which to create his masterpieces.

"As it turns out, he ran across this muggle couple in Chicago one day after he had gotten into a spot of trouble with the local authorities. Unlike the others there, they believed him when he said he was innocent, and were kind enough to help him get out of it. He was so impressed that he asked if they would allow him to take an impromptu picture of them in their home – deciding that they would be the perfect subjects for a tribute to muggle life in America. He hadn't even known them for a whole day, but that was all it took to give them this eternal memorial – a rare opportunity for a muggle, especially in the early 1900s."

Albus smiles to himself at the pleasant thought, then his tone turns solemn. "Apparently they also had a teenage son, but he was off at school when the picture was taken. The two of them died in an epidemic only a year later, leaving their only child still desperately sick in a hospital bed. They have never been able to find out if he made it or not." After saying this last sentence more quietly, Dumbledore pauses to sigh respectfully, then look back at the portrait with a friendly smile. "Ah, but they are wonderful people. It has been a great pleasure getting to know Mr. and Mrs. Masen a little better every time I have walked down this corridor since then." Dumbledore turns to smile amiably at Bella following the conclusion of his tale.

"Thank you," Bella whispers back to him in awe.

At this point, Edward finally breaks out of his statuesque pose and steps forward cautiously to touch the portrait with reverent fingers. "Mother." he whispers. "Father."

"Edward?!" they both exclaim in unbridled excitement, thrilled at the confirmation of their rising hopes.

"He saved you," Elizabeth breathes joyfully.

Edward nods solemnly. "Yes, he saved me. I live with Dr. Cullen now, and his wife Esme, and my four adopted siblings."

Elizabeth is pleased. "He's married now?"

"Yes," Edward smiles.

"And you've found someone!" Elizabeth excitedly acknowledges Bella.

Edward smiles hugely as he steps back to proudly bring Bella forward and hug her close from behind. "Yes. This is Bella Swan, daughter of the police chief in the town where we live. We met each other at school a year and a half ago. We're getting married, mother."

Elizabeth is teary-eyed. "Oh Edward, I'm so happy for you!"

Edward is also full of emotion. "Thank you, Mother." Edward then cocks his head in sudden alertness and continues: "You know, this conversation would be best continued in a more private place, such as the one we're headed to. Would you be able to meet us on the 7th floor, in the Room of Requirement?"

"Of course! We'd love to." they respond, "Just give us a canvas to come to."

Edward crooks a smile: "Alright. And please – could you do us a favor?"

"Of course." his parents nod in confused but willing assent.

"Don't tell _anyone_ about me – not even a little bit – until I can talk to you privately. Okay?" Edward requests. "It is very important."

Edward Sr. speaks for them both: "Okay, son. We won't say anything... _and_ we'll meet you there."

"Thank you," Edward smiles. With a small wave, he turns to continue down the corridor alongside a very happy Bella and a thoroughly but pleasantly intrigued Professor Dumbledore.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** The reflected 'essence' of any _thing_ inherently includes a memory of its own coloring... and so, even during a time when muggle technology was unable to produce anything better than a monochromatic image, any portrait developed by _magical_ means – yet retains its full color.

Just an interesting bit of background behind the Masens' portrait story: My reasoning for why the Masens would have accepted the photographer's claim of innocence when no one else did, is based on an estimation of what talents they might have manifested had they been turned. (Edward is talented, after all; perhaps his parents would have been also.) I have supposed that Edward's father, were he a defense lawyer by profession, might have had a talent for 'seeing guilt'... and thus been particularly effective at only accepting the cases of innocent parties. In its latent form, such a talent would be virtually undetectable, and yet be very much a factor in the ethical success of his profession. Had he been _turned_ (not by Carlisle), it also would have allowed him the option of hunting humans in the more ethical manner that Edward used while in his rebellious phase. Complementarily, his mother could have been similarly unaware of her latent 'power of suggestion', which may have been a factor in Carlisle's decision to change Edward. Had this talent become developed, it would have blossomed into an ability to telepathically converse with another's mind – allowing her to effectively communicate over distance with any aware friend (hearing in return only whatever mental response was directed back at her), or be accidentally mistaken as the voice of another's conscience. The genetics of talent can be truly fascinating!

And finally, some recognition is in order. One phrase used in this chapter is almost a direct quote from a fascinating fanfiction by BellaMasen, called 'Them' (which story I found posted on a site called TwilightArchives), wherein Elizabeth and Edward Sr. are reintroduced to the Cullens as vampires. The quote was: "He's found someone!" and I found it very inspiring in the writing of this. Thank you!


	7. Discoveries

* * * Discoveries * * *

The Room of Requirement was decked out in the fashion of a cozy office lounge, consisting of a wide sofa chair and a loveseat arranged in a half-circle facing a large scenic landscape on the wall. Edward and Elizabeth Masen were already settling down into the soft grass of the ornately framed familiar woodland meadow, and a beautiful swan-like bird with spectacular plumage had just settled onto its perch next to the overstuffed chair, preening its feathers. Edward raises an eyebrow upon entering, noting with curiosity that there is a unique aspect to its avian scent that he has never encountered before in a living creature: the scent of a clean-burning fire.

As Dumbledore strokes the lovely bird and proceeds to sit down in the chair beside it, Edward leads Bella over to the loveseat and sits down beside her, opening his arms in a gesture of invitation for her to cuddle up informally. She obliges and cuddles into his lap, smiling lovingly while he wraps his arms around her and grins back adoringly. Dumbledore watches them with fascinated interest, and politely invites them (or at least, Bella) to freely enjoy the tea and biscuits provided on the lounge table in front of them.

For a short moment afterwards, no one speaks- each of them gathering their thoughts as to the best way to resume the unprecedented conversation- until Bella breaks the silence. Having noted Edward's initial glance towards the curious bird that colorfully resembles her namesake, and thoroughly aware that she's never come across anything like it in her studies of such, Bella comments: "Your bird is very beautiful, but I've never seen one like it before. If you don't mind… what kind is it?"

Dumbledore smiles and good-naturedly obliges, mentally recalling a first-hand observation of each characteristic as he voices it: "Fawkes is a phoenix: a gentle but powerful magical creature which can rise again from its own ashes, carry immensely heavy loads, whose song gives courage to the pure in heart, and whose tears have healing powers. He is one of very few creatures that can apparate at will, even within the bounds of Hogwarts." He pauses, wondering what parallel aspects of Edward's & Bella's natures or _relationship_ might possibly help explain this ability in them, then continues, regarding Fawkes respectfully as he does so: "It is very rare for them to live as pets- but they are extremely devoted when they do."

Bella smiles at him in thanks.

Edward looks at Bella thoughtfully while he considers the possible parallels, before the expression in his eyes shifts to one of awe and humor: "_Very_ interesting. It seems that it would be _possible_ for Albus here to apparate within the boundaries of Hogwarts… so long as he were in the company of his _powerful magical creature_, which just so happens to be a _phoenix_ that resembles a _swan_. Can it be just _coincidence_ that _you_ came here in the company of your _powerful magical creature_, and that _I_ came here in the company of my _Swan_ from _Phoenix_?" Bella blanches in surprised embarrassment as to the implications of his revelation, and he smiles crookedly at her while stroking her cheek with his finger, continuing softly: "She's such a rare and gentle creature..." then, chuckling and smiling even wider as she blushes crimson: "...with truly exquisite coloring." Bella quickly hides her burning face against the cool fabric of his chest.

Dumbledore is intrigued. _He doesn't seem to mind the blood in her cheeks, though he obviously likes it… and that __is__ an interesting parallel. Phoenix… _he ponders the unfamiliar reference. _Could that be… America's __sunny__ city? Vampires have never been known to like the sun, though… so if that is the case, then- how did they meet? _Addressing Bella with renewed fascination, he ventures: "You are from Phoenix… Arizona?"

"Yes. I grew up there." Bella responds, her blush fading.

Speaking up in such a way as to inconspicuously answer his unasked question, Edward elaborates: "We might never have met each other if she hadn't been so gracious as to move up to live with her father in Forks, Washington… which just so _happens_ to be the _rainiest_ town in the U.S."

"It's even located in the shadow of Mount Olympus," Bella banters back factually. "Figures that I'd meet you there," she playfully grumbles.

Edward laughs at her insinuation of them being in any way connected to classical Greek mythology. "Silly girl," he teases back.

"But it was the best move I ever made." Bella looks at him warmly, smiling. Turning back to Albus, she adds: "I don't mind the rain so much anymore."

Albus smiles kindly, recognizing her sentiment as being much like the way he felt after meeting Fawkes. The inconvenience of snow hadn't bothered him anymore, either, after Fawkes had saved him from that life-threatening avalanche. He'd discovered a true friend that day. Inexperienced, wandless, and exposed, the whole ordeal had been a truly eye-opening experience for him… much like this one. And strangely, it had also given a welcome new significance to the meaning of his first name. It now symbolized the stalwart reality of a brotherhood pure enough to span across species.

"And your last name is Swan." Albus muses quietly. _Sometimes names can tell so much about a person, when their meanings are truly understood. Her first name speaks of a beautiful individual, and her last name appears to be consistent with quite an intriguing heritage. If this trend holds true, what would be the name of her heart? That which is at the core of her identity. I'm really curious! _"Do you mind if I ask what your middle name is?"

"My middle name?" Bella is surprised at the query, not able to fathom why it would be of interest to him. "Um… it's Marie?" Her bewildered reply comes out almost as if it were a question.

After a moment of reflection, Dumbledore responds with shock. "Really? Marie, as in M-A-R-I-E?" Bella nods, still confused. Reverently, he continues: "Did you know that 'Marie' means 'living water'?"

Bella shakes her head in reply. The unlikely significance of the meaning of her middle name is not lost on her, however, and she exchanges an astonished glance with Edward.

"An associate of mine once performed a meditation spell in order to learn about the meanings of her various names; she's the one who actually discovered this particularly unique meaning, and it was of significant interest to her when she did. Apparently, being that it is located at the _center_ of your name, it suggests the nature of your _heart_. Oddly fitting, it would seem…" he muses, _considering your __close-knit __vampiric associations. _"Very curious..." _indeed. Very unique._

The Masens are impressed with this information, but also a bit puzzled at the exchange- not knowing of the underlying significance that the others are privy to.

Dumbledore is momentarily lost in contemplation. _It can't be just coincidence-__ that the __label of her core identity__ would speak so clearly of her natural appeal to __him__, as well as his love for __her__ that she is spared. Their bond must run very deep__… almost as if it were fated to be so__._

Edward's head turns to look at him in surprise as his musing continues.

_What a magical coincidence of a muggle parallel!_ "Fascinating," Albus mumbles.

* * *

><p>After a short pause Dumbledore continues in a more business-like tone, nonetheless full of fervent gratitude and sincerity: "Well, I wanted to start off by saying Thank You… for helping Harry and Cedric be safe," he ventures, appreciating the hoped for confirmation of their involvement that Edward offers via his small smile of understanding and modest nod of acceptance. "I don't know what would have happened if they'd completed the tournament and been transported alone without your warning, but I believe we may have lost them both." His voice becomes hollow as he shudders internally at the idea, truly caring about the students of his school as well as the hope that Harry represents to the wizarding world.<p>

"As it was, nothing really happened," Dumbledore continues, appreciatively describing for them what happened behind the scenes. "I transported with them to a graveyard, and no one was there. It was evident someone had _been_ there, though; we heard them leave when we arrived. And it wasn't just any graveyard, either. This one happens to carry a personal significance to the most dangerous wizard in our world. The abandoned site very well _could_ have been the intended location for some abysmally _dark_ magic.

"Once again, I thank you. We've been trying to uncover this plot against Harry ever since he was unwillingly entered into the tournament eight months ago, but haven't been able to discover anything about it. If you don't mind my asking…" the headmaster inquires tentatively, pausing briefly with the knowledge that his forthcoming question is _not_ of the type Edward should have to answer, in all fairness, though it is compelling… "How were you able to find out about it so quickly?"

Edward shrugs nonchalantly, hoping for the unlikely chance that he will be able to pass it off without significant explanation: "I overheard him."

Dumbledore raises his eyebrows at the evasive nature of his answer, wondering who else at Hogwarts Barty Crouch Jr. would have possibly thought he could trust with such a secretive subject, and feeling sure that any one of his staff would have reported it to him immediately. If it had been as simple as that, they would have likely discovered it on their own already.

Edward, sighing reluctantly at his thoughts: "He was… thinking about it." Feeling uncomfortably unsure about just how much information he should divulge to this good man who already knows too much, Edward nevertheless knows that he still needs to garner just as much information from him in reply. Dumbledore _has_ been trying to approach this awkward situation in good faith, and he would like to be able to return the favor. It's a rather precarious working relationship.

Dumbledore is surprised. "You heard his thoughts?" he exclaims. Then, with a fascinated but skeptical curiosity (considering the fact that vampires have never been known to be magical), he ventures: "Are you a legilimens?"

Edward, calmly but with a touch of amusement at Dumbledore's idea of himself as a wizard casting spells to read thoughts, explains: "I can hear the thoughts around me, but I'm not a legilimens. We think it must have been a gift I was born with- that later became enhanced with my change." His eyes travel to take in the faces of his parents, smiling softly. "I've often wondered about just what indications there might have been that such a latent ability ran in the family."

Edward Sr. and Elizabeth look at each other in shocked amazement, before pausing to consider the possibilities. Taking a moment to rummage through their memories and voice a few possibilities to Edward, in the process giving him quite a bit to think about, they ultimately decide that there is nothing in their history that would have been obviously conclusive.

In the midst of their endeavor, Dumbledore mentally queries Edward: _Can you hear __my__ thoughts?_ and Edward responds with a subtle nod. Surprised by this, the headmaster then continues, musing to himself: _Hmmm__- m__y occlumency defense must not have been triggered__ then__. __I suppose__…__tha__t makes sense__, though;__ Crouch Jr. would have noticed if he had been probed. __That also explains__ how __Edward__ knew __that__ I recognized him __for what he was… __and__ how he has apparently been so familiar with magical terminology__.__ Very interesting… even if a bit unsettling._

Having observed their subtle exchange, when the conversation going on with the Masens comes to an end, Bella asks curiously: "So, what's a legilimens?"

Dumbledore responds to her, looking a bit amazed and smiling slightly: "A legilimens is a person who practices legilimency- which is the magical method of probing into someone's mind in order to read their thoughts." He notices Bella visibly cringe at this description, and his thoughts turn sympathetic. "It is not a common skill among wizards, but it _is_ an invasive one- and it requires a wand to learn. The magic of occlumency works to defend against it, and those of us who employ it are known as occlumens." He addresses Edward now, musing aloud for Bella's sake: "It seems that occlumency doesn't work against _you_, however… perhaps… because your ability is not invasive? I suppose that _would_ make sense, since the magic of occlumency _is_ triggered by the presence of a mental probe." _Hmmm… the __absence__ of a probe suggests that his is a personal __sensitivity__, rather than any kind of offensive magical __ability__. Thus, there would be nothing really for us to defend __against__… unless, of course… it was to keep __ourselves__ from broadcasting whatever it is that he __hears__. Hmmm, _he marvels in wonder_. I never knew we broadcasted. That's quite some sensory advantage._ "Fascinating," he whispers.

Bella watches the headmaster curiously, noting with amusement how much his inquisitive manner reminds her of Carlisle. Edward smiles at her wonder, silently agreeing with her apparent approval of his unusually refreshing personality.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Perhaps because this chapter introduces a lot of separate yet fascinating details, it was not an easy one for me to organize into dialogue. I'm still not sure that I'm totally satisfied with the flow of it... so, if you have any suggestions to that end, please let me know!

Maybe you can also tell that I am a philosopher by nature- and that this story is in fact a treasured mode of expression for me. Albus' memory of meeting Fawkes is actually based upon an unrelated bedtime story I came up with once upon a time... which just kind of seemed to fit the scenario, when I wrote this. It is called 'A Beautiful Bird', and this short and very _simple_ story is posted under my fictionpress account, in case you might be interested. In other news, Dumbledore's description of Bella's middle name is the very real and true result of _another_ unrelated discovery, which (to my excitement) proved to be of value here. Indeed, I suppose it could be said that I just inserted myself into the story- since it was _me_ who underwent the meditation. ;)

In other news, Mount Olympus _is_, in fact, the name of the tallest and most prominent peak of the Olympic Mountain Range of Western Washington. :)

Finally, I want to say a big _Thank You!_ to everyone who has given helpful or encouraging reviews, and/or favorited my work. Those are such wonderful messages to receive! Thank you so very much! And, thanks for reading!

Until next time... :)


	8. History Lesson

* * * History Lesson * * *

For Edward, there is no more precious gift he could have imagined coming from this strange trip, than to have the opportunity to know his parents again. It's really them! Their thoughts ring out loud and clear. They aren't dead to him anymore, even if their essential form _is_ no longer truly human. In fact, they're part of a whole new type of supernatural existence. A living portrait! …already inducted into the wizarding world, and living under the protection of magical wards. It is so mind-bogglingly unheard of, and yet _so_ welcome. The borrowed memories he's already been privy to, have them already feeling like a fundamental part of his family circle again. It is a prospect he knows they don't want to let go of, and neither does he.

Edward Sr. and Elizabeth have been taking all the preceding revelations pretty well in stride so far, though they still have no idea what the real truth is behind it all. For all of their sakes, it's going to have to come out. The most important thing this conversation needs to accomplish, after all, is their (and Albus') cooperation in regards to keeping his identity a secret. Inexplicably, the wizened headmaster already knows the essence of it- and appears to be willing to keep it under wraps- but his long lost and beloved parents will need to understand the situation. They already know a good part of it. Truly, it would be unfair to give them a less-than-honest explanation. Not to mention dishonorable.

It's not like they aren't trustworthy. Of course they are. They love him dearly. Truly, they would do almost anything to preserve his safety. And with each other to confide in, they'd be able to aid Dumbledore in keeping the secret. But… they're his _parents_. All they've ever known of him has been in the innocence of youth… an innocence that he has, by now, all but lost. How do you tell your parents that you're a century-old vampire?

Taking a big breath in order to steady himself, Edward begins: "Mother, how much did you know about Carlisle when you asked him to save me?"

Elizabeth answers clearly: "Only that somehow I knew he _could_, and that he's one of the kindest people I've ever met. Why?"

Edward nods to himself as she confirms what he had suspected, then with an obvious note of respect murmurs: "I've never met a better person." The tone of his voice takes on a hint of forced calm, and he introspectively continues: "Would you have ever guessed that he was over 270 years old the day we met him? He had been studying medicine for most of that time, and traveling the world. Always alone. He's never harmed a human, you see, even when he woke up alone and his instincts were screaming otherwise. He'd already been a practicing doctor for 120 years by the time he arrived in Chicago. He truly loves what he does. A more sincerely compassionate man you will never find. You couldn't have picked a better mentor."

It takes Edward Sr. and Elizabeth a few moments to absorb the significance of this information, and Edward and Bella both watch as their thoughts and expressions shift from surprise (at Carlisle's age, and the realization of what that means for how old Edward is) to concern (about the harmful instincts he spoke of, and what it might signify), then to comprehension (of the fact that the heartfelt praise given to Carlisle is an indication of how profound those choices must have been), and finally to tenderness (having recognized by Edward's deflective style of conversation that this must be a really difficult thing for him to admit). Eventually, Elizabeth gently ventures to ask her son: "Edward, what _is_ Carlisle?" _What are you?_

Edward lowers his gaze to the floor, appreciating Bella's gentle squeeze of reassurance as he does so. "Carlisle is a vampire."

Following his admission, a stunned silence permeates the room- and Edward listens apprehensively to the progression of their thoughts. As expected, at first there is shock at the recognition of what he is, which reality is so much more terrible than what they would have dared to guess. Then comes the horror- at the stereotypical image that comes to mind (though it doesn't quite fit Edward's visage), and what kinds of things he must have had to go through since waking up as one of them. Edward feels ashamed to think that they don't even know the half of it. After that emerges an understanding as they consider the events that changed his life- knowing full well between them that the choice had never been his, and that the profound respect he evidently holds for Carlisle would be a reflection of the kind of effort he has put into doing the best he could under the circumstances. Finally, they are taken up by an overwhelming sense of pride at how well he has done- to be sitting here with them today, the focus of Dumbledore's praise- having fallen so deeply in love with, and earned the complete devotion of, the obviously very human young lady cuddled up into his side.

Edward snaps his head up at this thought, to gaze at them in disbelief- simultaneously feeling an overwhelming sense of gratefulness toward them for their unconditional acceptance. His golden eyes are tearlessly swimming with emotion.

Quietly, Bella speaks to him, breaking the silence: "I told you so," she says with a smile in her voice, pleasantly reminding him of a conversation she had spearheaded a while back concerning the idea that his parents would have been proud of him.

Breaking his gaze away from them, he turns to look into her eyes lovingly. "So you did," he replies in happy wonder, stroking her face with the fingers of his free hand and kissing her forehead gently. Presently he leans back against the loveseat once more, cradling her against him and turning to observe the room's occupants again, feeling more at peace than he was before.

At this point, Edward Sr.'s strong voice rings out for everyone to hear: "You've done good, son."

Dumbledore, who has remained politely silent through all of this but has nonetheless been observing their exchanges with a profound interest, soundlessly agrees with the sentiment.

The corners of Edward's mouth turn up slightly as he mutters a heartfelt "Thank you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Thank you for your encouraging reviews, favoritisms, and alerts! They are a joy to read and receive!


	9. Vampire 101

* * * Vampire 101 * * *

Having watched her son's reactions carefully, Elizabeth speaks up gently. "You didn't think we'd take to that very well, did you?"

Edward's answer is reluctant: "No. It isn't exactly _good_ news."

Taken aback, Elizabeth counters firmly. "It is _very_ good news. You're alive! You're happy. And you're still my sweet Edward."

Edward's lips twitch into a small smile at the thought of what makes him happy, and he squeezes Bella lightly in acknowledgement. "I _am_ happy." He can agree with one of her reasonings, at least.

Sensing the evasive omissions in Edward's statement, and his probable reasonings for them, Bella continues on his behalf: "And he is the sweetest, most perfect _gentleman_ I've ever met." She looks at him then, her eyes challenging him to disagree.

Edward smiles wryly at her.

Elizabeth is pleased. Edward Sr. is curiously impressed. "How do you do it?" he asks. _How is it that you live without hurting humans?_

Edward shrugs. "We hunt animals. It's not a particularly appealing fare, but it works."

Elizabeth regards him hopefully. "Is that why you don't look like- well, what I would have _thought_ a vampire would look like?"

Dumbledore's thoughts continue cautiously along the same vein: _Indeed._ _Am I correct in understanding that__ vampires generally have red eyes?_

Edward smiles gently. "Yes. The vegetarian lifestyle is a choice that very few can appreciate. The less-threatening color of our eyes is a fringe benefit of the diet. It makes it somewhat easier for us to avoid detection while living amongst humans."

Elizabeth pauses thoughtfully, then continues with a hint of regret in her voice: "We can't let anyone know about you, can we?"

Edward frowns. "No, I'm afraid not. They wouldn't understand, and it would be dangerous for all of us if that information were to leak out. The existence of my kind is a well-guarded secret."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth is confused. _We've heard of vampires before._

Edward sighs. "There is a large and powerful group among us- that has taken upon itself the task of enforcing the only law we are bound by: Keep the Secret. They are known as the Volturi, and are the self-appointed leaders of the vampire world. Their word is law, because no one can defend against them- and their initiative in this capacity has garnered a significant amount of respect from the rest of the vampire community. If they were to learn that there were _humans_ that knew of us- I mean, _really _knew of us- it would almost surely result in their immediate deaths, as well as the elimination of whoever was responsible for the exposure. Neither would there be anything we could do to keep it from happening… unless, I suppose…" he thoughtfully considers, "it were possible to live under the constant protection of an effective magical ward." Shaking himself out of the intriguing thought, he continues: "In absence of this possibility, we've managed to be fortunate on that count once already. They wouldn't give us a second chance."

Pondering over the familiar circumstances, Dumbledore ventures tentatively: "This group... wouldn't happen to be the same group that lives in Volterra, Italy… would it?"

Edward turns to look at him with surprise. "Yes… How did you know?"

"The wizarding world has actually been aware of the existence of vampires such as yourself, for quite some time," the headmaster explains thoughtfully. "You see- your _species_ was accidentally discovered by the Ministry of Magic almost a thousand years ago, when they first began keeping tabs on other members of the undead populace. The numbers of dementors and inferi were on the rise at the time, and the ministry needed to be able to monitor their movements in order to keep them in check. Magical tracking systems easily identified them by their lack of heartbeat, and the ministry quickly became aware of a third species that kept popping up on their radar."

Edward Sr. and Elizabeth are both listening with wide-eyed rapt attention to his surprising exposition, as they've never heard about the real details surrounding vampires before. _Edward doesn't have a heartbeat?_

"They didn't know what to make of it at first. Records were kept of these occurrences, and attempts were made to match local rumors to their movements. It took a long time for us to come up with anything worthwhile, though; your kind are evidently _masters_ of obscurity. It wasn't until the European tracking system had been painstakingly reconfigured to allow for county- and occasionally city- specific detail, that we became able to conclusively observe your speed and traveling habits.

"You're fast. Ministry wizards were quite fascinated when they were able to clock your species traveling through forested areas at speeds approaching 250 kph." Edward smirks slightly with pleasure at this fact while Dumbledore continues. "It made them all the more interested in establishing contact." Edward's smile disappears. "All of those who ever made such an attempt were later found dead, or vanished without a trace, even though magical signatures indicated that some of them had put up quite a fight. Their causes of death were always the same, however: total and complete loss of blood." _O__riginating from a bite__ wound-__ usually at the neck__, _he mentally expounds. "It was then that we learned what you were… and the ministry became content to study you from a distance. Vampires have earned the distinction of being the most _lethal_ species ever to have been approached."

Edward grimaces as he mutters: "That sounds about right." His parents observe his responses with growing concern- Edward Sr. noting his distaste for the norm of the vampire species, and Elizabeth detecting a discomfort in him… for being one.

Dumbledore continues his explanation with a cautious but increasing confidence in the friendship-promoting wisdom of the conversation. "Even in portrait form, there have never been any proper eyewitnesses, by which one of your kind could be positively identified. Only second-hand rumors of red eyes and beauty… and unnervingly brutal postmortem evidence of what supernatural strength could do." _C__rushed bones, dismembered body part__s, and severe bite damage comes to mind… in combination with newly felled mature trees that contained only the indentation of a single handprint, and solid walls with fragilely unlikely objects embedded in them- from having moved at some __intense__ speed__. _"Because of this- unofficially, throughout the wizarding world- your species has come to be known as 'The Heartless'." _The other two species of undead beings, dementors and inferi, have been similarly dubbed 'The Soulless' and 'The Mindless', respectively._

Edward grimaces at the unfavorable facts, feeling appreciative of Dumbledore's editing effort. Elizabeth watches him worriedly. She wishes she could step out of the frame and give him a hug… but at least he can hear that she wants to, and how much she loves him. Edward locks eyes with her briefly, savoring and returning the sentiment.

"So… I suppose you can understand why it stirred up an unusual degree of attention a couple of months back- when a human, traveling in the company of vampires, successfully entered into _and_ emerged safely from Volterra, of all places." Turning briefly from the shocked couple glancing at each other on the couch, in order to address the Masens, he clarifies: "The city of Volterra had long since been identified as housing the largest known concentration of vampires anywhere in the world. It carries a very _dangerous_ reputation." Turning back to Edward, he continues: "So far as we know, that's _never_ happened before. A contact at the ministry clued me in to the event, and I followed up with a bit of my own research- matching muggle flight logs with magical tracking records- in order to learn your names. I wanted to be able to find out if you were different than the others. I've been keeping a curious eye on Forks ever since, and the area around it, in hopes that I might be able to confirm that you were someone worth meeting."

_There's been a lot of vampire activity in your neck of the woods__ lately, especially in the vicinity of Seattle…__ but __over the four years you've lived there- there's __never __been __an apparently related fatality except when __it appears that __foreign vampires __had also been__ in the area._ "On behalf of my school and myself, not to mention the greater world: I'm glad you are." Dumbledore's eyes twinkle with gratitude and admiration.

Edward responds with a small smile and nod of appreciation, replying with a heartfelt "Thank you." Bella snuggles into his side a little more tightly, fervidly endorsing Dumbledore's sentiment. Edward's smile deepens, and he holds her close. Edward Sr. and Elizabeth look on with proud and loving smiles.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** There is still quite a bit more to be learned from this most consequential of conversations... But for those of you who have been wondering, the plot will become evident before long. :)

Also, in case you were wondering: there is _indeed_ a biotic species of vampire _already existing_ within the wizarding world, which is the type popularly read about in their Hogwarts textbooks and regulated by their Ministry. We will learn more about some of their fascinating similarities and differences at a future time. :)

Thanks for reading! ...as well as alerting, favoriting, and/or reviewing!


	10. Private Revelations

* * * Private Revelations * * *

Dumbledore's voice takes on a hopeful note as he continues. "You know- until today, no vampire has ever been known to have entered within the bounds of a defensive magical ward… _or_ to have taken part in performing magic, for that matter." _You're so much more personable than I would have expected; truly a credit to your parents. _ "And… you present such a fascinating paradox. I have to say- I would _very_ much enjoy the opportunity of learning more about you." His tone is serious and sincere with interest, both academic and personal.

Edward Sr. and Elizabeth are similarly hopeful, very much interested in the opportunity of being a part of his life again, now that they know that he 'lives'.

"Perhaps- I could offer something that would interest the both of you?" Albus continues, aware and unafraid of the fact that his unguarded thoughts will make his motives clear. "This _is_ an establishment geared to hone and develop newly discovered magical talent, after all. We have everything we might need at our disposal. Would you be amenable to working together to find out and cultivate whatever magic you are capable of?" _Obviously, you already have the capacity to appear wherever you wish… __and__ the unique ability to discretely learn much of what we know about magic, on your own. I'd really much prefer having the opportunity to learn about and develop it __with__ you, though, than not. And we could learn so much __more__ together. It would be fascinating! No doubt the wizarding world could also benefit from the resulting perspective, even if they never knew where it came from._

Edward and Bella both glance at each other knowingly, well aware of how pleased they are with this suggestion. What an opportunity! They had already hoped to elicit some kind of interaction along these lines- if for no other reason than to be able to return home the way they came- but had never imagined it would be so consciously and generously offered.

Seeing their promising exchange, Dumbledore ventures to elaborate further: "We could meet up privately, in this room…" _where the Masens could attend, we__ could cater to __every experiment, and no one else would have to fall into the hazard of knowing your secret._"You could apparate directly here and home every time, which would keep our magical tracking system from being any-the-wiser." _After all, __it can only detect when you __cross __over __designated__ borders, not what you do within them. Apparition circumvents even that. _"And I could share with you the world that I know, as we discover yours." _Please, please! We could learn so much from each other! I rather think I would really enjoy working with you._

Edward, chuckling at the youthfully pleading nature of Albus' latest thoughts, nevertheless responds to his unprejudiced invitation with sincere gratitude: "We'd like that, very much. Thank you, Albus. It is fortunate that we met up with someone as truly open-minded as you. It's…" He pauses, as if struck by a sudden thought, and looks at Bella pointedly. "…_almost_ as if you had been hand-picked for the opportunity." Bella's eyes widen in surprise at the suggestion, causing him to smirk amusedly in response, and he turns back to see Albus' eyes twinkle merrily.

Returning to the topic at hand, Edward explains: "Apparently, it wouldn't have been a very good idea to have had to experiment with magic on our own. Being unfamiliar with the nuances of magical tracking, we might have inadvertently alerted the local authorities to the circumstances of it, in conjunction with our nature- and scared them half to death in the process. We've already seen how a supernaturally aware community- which has been exposed to the realities of traditional vampires- reacts to us. We have no wish to revisit that scenario."

Albus nods thoughtfully in understanding. _That's a good point. The very idea that our only proven line of defense against 'the heartless' could have suddenly been rendered __ineffective__, let alone that some of them could also take part in performing __magic__, would very possibly incite chaos and panic __throughout__ the wizarding world… to a degree that we've __never__ known before. _Albus closes his eyes in pained distress at the image this brings to mind. _Worse even than when Voldemort was on the loose, it would only serve to further his aims. We __can't__ let that happen. We don't yet have the knowledge with which to combat such a panic, and in the face of such, it would be even harder to gain. _

Albus studies Edward carefully as his mental dialogue continues. _It__'s scary- the amount of havoc they could cause without even trying. And then- coupled with supernatural gifts, strength, and speed… __so much__ power in their hands. Even the illusion of his greatest defensive weakness- fire, apparently- was not insurmountable. Humans don't really stand a chance against you, do they? _Edward solemnly and discreetly shakes his head in reply. _All the more reason to __appreciate this benevolent opportunity to learn together__. _

"Beyond that consideration-" Edward continues, "your community puts us in a unique position. I rather think that the existence of your wards- which appear to be quite effective at keeping most of us at bay- in combination with your own secrecy directive and pre-existing awareness, would force any informed vampire to acknowledge you as supernatural beings in your own right. It's not so unlike the case of some friends of ours that live near Forks." _After all, __Jacob and Seth __are__ more than just tolerant acquaintances._ "Though it's also true that, being human, this wouldn't be enough to _save_ any of you in a confrontation, it does give your community a certain amount of leverage that we can't ignore.

"Mostly, however, it puts you all at risk. It's easier for you to believe in the supernatural, while secrecy remains a paramount issue for us. Since we are quite possibly the only _exceptions_ to your defensive wards… in the eyes of the vampire world, the burden of maintaining it would rest upon our shoulders." Edward grimaces thoughtfully.

Albus' forehead wrinkles in concern at the implications, and the Masens recoil in comprehension and horror… all of their thoughts coordinating together in a strange way. _This is a very sensitive situation indeed. Regardless of these… golden vampires'… apparently benign intentions, the wizarding world would be aghast if they thought I was betraying our secrets to one of 'the heartless'. Wizards aren't used to feeling so vulnerable… myself included. And yet, it is just as dangerous for them! The other vampires would be expecting them to __kill__ people that knew! Edward would be risking his own life if he __didn't__, as would the rest of them. Oh, heavens. We can't let anyone figure it out! No one can know._

"But then there's you," Edward continues, looking at Albus appreciatively. "Of all the people that could have been endangered by the learning of our secret, you appear to be the only one that any vampire in the _know_ would actually think twice about attacking."

Dumbledore's eyes widen in pleasant surprise at this revelation, and Bella looks at Edward in shock. The Masens are hopeful as to what this might mean.

"It's because of your phoenix. As you've already had occasion to witness, fire doesn't threaten us as easily as it does you…" _because_ _we're too fast and strong to let ourselves be caught in it._ "However, it _is_ what ultimately destroys us. It is enough, that I can think of a reason why an attack on you might not be safe to attempt." _Considering Fawkes' ability to apparate at will in a fiery burst of flames, in combination with his devotion to__ Albus and immunity to permanent death, it is not hard to __imagine__ that he would be willing to sacrifice his life in an effort to protect __the headmaster__. If __Fawkes__ were to apparate to a spot __within __the confines of __any given vampire's body, __automatically allowing himself to be killed in the process__, I imagine the vampire in question would __likewise __be unable to avoid __the flames __burning__ him__ to ashes from the inside out__. There would be no__ warning__… and thus no chance to get away__. Aro would not want to risk himself, or any of his guard, to such a possibility._ "For us, this translates rather helpfully into the presumption that if the Volturi were ever to learn about the knowledge that _you_ hold, they wouldn't hold our inaction against us."

Albus sighs. "Wow." _This is good news. Even __if__ I kind of suspected some kind of potential in regards to Fawkes, that's not just a little bit of trust he's just shown. He's as interested in working together as __I__ am. This is going to be fantastic!_

Both Edward Sr. and Elizabeth are breathing easier now, though she is glad to still be firmly held by his comforting arms. This _has_ been a lot for them to process.

Edward relaxes back into the couch, and starts peacefully fingering a lock of Bella's hair. _They understand what is at stake now. It's good that they know. As we undertake to work together, we'll all be safer that way._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** In case you may be interested, updates as to my posting schedule- or the writing progress of my stories- can be found on my profile. Enjoy, please review, and thanks for reading!_  
><em>


	11. Capable Motivations

* * * Capable Motivations * * *

Bella pauses thoughtfully for a moment before speaking up in a quietly concerned tone: "Edward, do you think the Volturi might have _already_ learned about the wizarding world?"

Edward is at first surprised, but then cautiously considers the idea. "No, I wouldn't think so. I imagine we'd have heard about it if they _had_. Carlisle spent a lot of time making use of their libraries, and I'm fairly certain he'd have been quite fascinated by any indication of another supernatural community." He smiles knowingly at the thought, then pauses- his curiosity about what she must be thinking along this train of thought quite evident. "Why?"

Bella replies thoughtfully. "Well… people _have_ gone missing. And, we know that, in the attempt to establish contact with your kind, wizards have done magic in front of vampires. _What if_ there was more to all these disappearances than just a few free meals? What would magic have looked like to a normal vampire?"

Edward, taken aback by this train of thought, mutters in reply: "An impressive talent, especially for one who is only human."

Bella watches his response closely. "Exactly. Potential for the taking." The eyes of Albus and the Masens widen in alarm at her revelation. Edward grimaces. "Even if the vampire they met wasn't interested in pursuing this outcome, think about it: if even _one_ of these reports made it back to _Aro_… but _especially_ if there were more of them… what do you think he would have done?"

Edward hisses at the thought, exhaling forcefully.

"Aro is a collector of talent, isn't he?" she continues quietly. Edward nods reluctantly in reply. "I think he would have wanted to meet them, so he could obtain their talent for the Guard. Or, if that was no longer possible, he'd have requested to meet the very next person who came along wielding magic. As soon as that happened, he would have learned _everything_ about the magical community, and the poor soul wouldn't have known what hit them."

"You're right," Edward responds, voice grave. "And as a newborn, they would have joined him, too. They wouldn't have known any different." He sighs heavily, then turns to the others, whose expressions are an alarmed mixture of concern, curiosity and confusion. Addressing their silent questions, he explains:

"Aro is the foremost leader of the Volturi, and has a talent similar to my own in that he can also hear thoughts- though in a very different manner. With a single touch he becomes privy to every thought a person's mind has ever held." Gasps are heard from the others around the room. "As you can see, it wouldn't have taken much at all for him to learn as much as any witch or wizard knows about your world.

"Coincidentally, newly created vampires are _also_ notoriously easy to sway… most likely a product of the severe disorientation they are dealing with, both mental and physical. Aro wouldn't have had any compunctions against stealing a human life to serve his purposes… and once the new vampire got comfortable with the benefits of being a member of _the_ most powerful coven, he knows they're most likely never to leave. He has gained a number of his guard that way."

Bella looks at him, stunned but not surprised by that last thought. "When did you learn about this?"

A shadow crosses Edward's face, and his voice is dark. "It crossed his mind when he was considering what to do with _us_. Aro's interest in _our_ talents, and the potential of _yours_, was a bigger factor in your survival than I'd like to admit." He grimaces, not wanting to scare her with such news, but knowing she'd have insisted on being aware. "Bella- if he thought he could have gotten away with it, he would have never let us leave. Ultimately, our saving grace was that he knows our bonds are too strong for him to sway, and our talents too perceptive for his subtly coercive techniques. Since he wasn't willing to gamble his reputation on the attempt, he had to approach the situation diplomatically."

Bella's face is troubled as she considers how Aro would have liked to use her transformation to make Edward and Alice stay with him. It wouldn't have worked in the end, she hopefully believes, but still… A shudder runs through her body. Edward's finger lightly tracing patterns on her back, soothes her.

At this point, Albus speaks up curiously, trying to confirm what he thinks he's heard: "Bella has shown signs of a latent talent, then?"

Edward is glad for the opportunity to lighten the subject. Smiling gratefully, he replies: "It's possible- though we don't really know. Bella has a unique immunity to talents that have never been thwarted before. Hers is the only mind I've never been able to hear." Gazing at her wryly, he continues: "She is simultaneously the single most _appealing _and_ frustratin_g person I've ever met."

Bella, initially surprised at his brazen comment, notes the mischievous twinkle in his eye when she promptly meets his gaze. Self-consciously waving her hand in reply and diverting her eyes as if to brush off the attention his comment has focused upon her, she teases back with a smile: "Ah, you know you love me."

Without pause, his voice full of conviction, Edward quickly leans forward to wrap his arms around her from behind. "Absolutely." His breath tickles her ear.

Bella blushes at his warm declaration and leans into his embrace, suddenly needing to concentrate on breathing evenly while her heart tries to jump out of her chest. Her neck arches invitingly as he kisses her jawline, smiling as her closed eyelids all but hide the fact that her eyes are rolled back into her head in bliss. Pausing infinitesimally to conclude that the implications of his actions will be okay in present company, he accepts her invitation and plants three more kisses along her bare neck and shoulder. An intimate sense of happiness flows between them, and he kisses her cheek once more- briefly but sweetly. "Breathe, Bella" he smirks, pleased. It seems she had forgotten to do so after all.

Elizabeth melts at the sight, almost fainting with delight in her husband's arms. She is so happy to see Edward in _love_!

_He is so __human__ with her, _Albus marvels. _And he makes it look so __easy__… though I suspect it's anything but._

Edward chuckles.

Presently regaining her composure, but still smiling bashfully about their public display, Bella realizes how he was once again effective at providing a welcome distraction. "Okay, mister…" she scolds him affectionately before getting right back on topic. "So, _are_ there any magical persons on the Guard?"

Edward sighs, returning to a serious demeanor. "Not that I could tell. None of them appeared to be wand-wavers, at least- though that doesn't mean they couldn't have been talented at magic. I imagine a gift such as that, if it exists, would have granted its bearer a rather privileged status among them; after all, magic does encompass a pretty wide range of capability. Jane and Alec are the foremost jewels of the Guard, and are known by some as the 'witch twins'… but I don't know if that means they were ever magical. It could just be a reference to their status as Aro's greatest weapons."

Bella shudders at the reminder of how devastatingly Jane's power was used against Edward in Volterra, and Edward's thumb traces comforting circles into the skin of her arm while he holds her close.

"If they _had_ been magical, Aro would have begun hunting any witch or wizard he could get his hands on- just to see what they could do when they were turned." Bella's low voice was serious.

"Yes, he would have… but he didn't." Edward replies carefully. "Surely if he had, it would have caused a more significant impact upon wizarding history, even given the protection of their wards- since his talent would have allowed him to know how to circumvent such obstacles."

Bella nods in agreement. "So… either he _doesn't_ know about the wizarding world _at all_, or the ability to do magic must have had no direct correlation with whether or not someone would turn out to have a gift."

"So it would seem," he agrees. "Hmm, I wonder..." Edward addresses Dumbledore. "Would you by any chance have a list of the names, and other identifying information, of all the people that disappeared in the attempt? I'd like to see if any of them look familiar."

As Albus is opening his mouth to formulate a reply of assistance, the requested list materializes on the table right in front of Edward, resting peacefully next to the tea and cookies Bella has been snacking on. After observing his own and everyone else's surprised responses, Albus chuckles with merriment. This is a feature of the room he hasn't previously been acquainted with.

Edward is pleasantly intrigued. "Um… thank you?" he says uncertainly to the room. Then, shaking his head absently and chuckling to himself at the absurdity of it all, he picks up the list and starts scanning it for possible matches. Bella giggles, watching him. Edward smirks pleasantly at her amusement.

A moment later, Edward proclaims emotionlessly: "Timothy Malcolm."

"What?" Bella whispers at the same time as Dumbledore, both of them asking for clarification of what they think they've heard.

"He was a Scottish wizard that went missing about 450 years ago," Edward explains, looking up from the list he was perusing. "Brown hair, long face, bipolar personality; he's on the Guard… kind of a fringe member. Apparently, he's got a minor talent the Volturi find useful: he's magnetic. He can run a charge through his body that attracts or repels metallic objects… and is useful for the detection and disabling of electronic equipment such as might be used in covert intelligence operations. It's not a particularly _practical_ talent most of the time- he always has to be careful around computers- but it _is_ a rather fantastic effect. Carlisle has met him."

"So he knows," Bella concludes tonelessly.

"Yes, he knows." Edward confirms.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thank you all for your kind words, alerts, and favorite designations! I suspect that this time around, much of that was in response to learning that I have related storyettes also in the works. As an author, it is really quite delightful to know that people are enjoying and looking forward to my ideas so much! It is truly exciting! Thank you, and thanks for reading!


	12. Immortal Repercussions

* * * Immortal Repercussions * * *

"Well, then it would seem we have been quite fortunate," Albus remarks after a moment. His countenance is saddened by the fate of his long-lost fellow wizard, but also resigned. Mentally, he pauses long enough to send him off with a respectful farewell, knowing that there's nothing he can do but accept it now. Simultaneously grateful for whatever it is about the nature of magic that has kept the situation from compounding, he concludes with the awareness: _It could have been much worse_. Everyone seems to nod silently in agreement, lost in their own thoughts. "I wonder what happened to his magic?" he muses. _The essential nature of magic is an aspect of philosophy that has never been fully explored, though the Ministry has tried __relentlessly__ to understand it._

"I don't know," Edward replies thoughtfully. _There's a good chance he forgot about it all during his change… and yet Aro would have remembered. __I've also never heard of a potential ability becoming weakened by the change, rather than enhanced… but then, there's a lot we still don't know. How are __we__ here?_ No viable theories come to mind.

"You know, other species still retain their magic when they're turned…" Albus brainstorms. "I know of a few wizards that are _werewolves_." _Remus Lupin was an excellent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher last year. _Edward and Bella look shocked- apparently by more than just the mention of another magical creature- and so he clarifies, watching them both with renewed interest. "I imagine that you've heard the classic myths? These people were each bitten by a werewolf at one point, and now change into one themselves at every full moon. Whether they like it or not, they transform into a venomous wolf-beast that is supernaturally strong and fierce- and particularly inclined to mangle humans." They nod in surprised understanding. "Most of them feel quite plagued with their dual existence; they aren't well accepted." _Not so different from vampires, I would imagine._

_Come to think of it- those same prevalent myths also clearly suggest that vampires are transformed in a similar fashion… though we know that is definitely not the case for our indigenous, biotic species. Could it be true for them, then? _"I imagine the catalyst for your change might have been similar?" Albus asks gently. Edward nods reluctantly. _Yes, the parallels are striking. _"The question is:" the headmaster continues, "Do they retain their magical ability while in their _wild_ state- or only when in their _human_ form?" _Or in other words, does the change involve a __whole__ retention of magic, or only a __partial__ one__- which could explain why a wizard-turned-__gifted__-vampire would no longer seem to have it._ "Considering the uncontrolled nature of their wolf-beast, and the fact that it would not be able to hold a wand in any case, I suppose we may never know." Albus concludes, resigned.

"That _is_ an interesting comparison," Edward replies, musing. "After all, we _were_ human once. One could say _we_ remain in our wild state 24/7, and only have whatever control we've developed because we've had enough time to gain it." Elizabeth gasps at the bleakness of her son's condition, and Edward looks up at her apologetically- his eyes full of sympathy. Presently turning back to Albus, he continues: "However, I was not a wizard as a human."

"Indeed-" _Hmm, I hadn't thought of it that way- wild 24/7! That's got to be a difficult reality to live with…_ "and that makes any magical possibilities that may have come of your change all the more fascinating to contemplate." Albus responds, absorbed in the discussion. _Could it be that __the supernatural nature of their wild existence taps into a deeper level of magic than we're commonly aware of? Perhaps that would be true of __any__ supernatural form. Maybe that's why __simple__ magic tends not to work against them? _

"It _is_ true that a werewolf at the full moon has a significantly enhanced resistance to most magic, even though his _human_ self does not…" he continues, "and you've already mentioned that the change has had enhancing effects for you. Our history supports the idea that magic may be totally ineffective when used against vampires directly." _Maybe that could also explain why this Aro fellow must not have seen fit to classify us as supernatural beings._

"Perhaps…" Albus theorizes, "your species naturally experiences magic at a _subconscious_ level? …and thus- it is rarely ever consciously realized… while we on the other hand, who experience magic at a _conscious_ level- rarely ever develop our abilities to that depth." _Hmm…__ that sounds workable. Any wizard-turned-vampire's realization of magic would then have to be relearned from an __entirely__ new perspective__…__ an effort of __focus__ that would likely be inherently connected to his __conscious level of __self-__control__. In __that__ endeavor, I doubt his magical heritage would give him any advantage. Hmm. Very interesting…_ he regards Edward with new eyes…_ and profoundly impressive. _"Does _your_ experience concur with this?"

"It could…" Edward replies modestly, inwardly shying away from Dumbledore's unspoken compliment, "and I suppose it would explain how your wand-magic could be ineffective against us, except when used indirectly… even while the magical creatures that such wands are based on remain able to affect us directly."

Albus raises his eyebrow curiously. "You've noticed something about this… since you've been here?"

"Yes," Edward responds quietly, looking slightly troubled. "I've already hinted at what I thought your phoenix could do… but the dementor's presence is potentially a lot more troubling." Albus' forehead wrinkles in concern, and he explains: "The effect of her emotional vacuum was as draining to me as it was to Bella."

"That sounds dangerous," Albus observes cautiously, quickly picking up on his meaning.

"It could have been." Edward acknowledges seriously, nodding. "That's why my eyes are so much darker, now, than when you first saw them." His eyes turn towards Bella and abruptly fill with humor, while his voice turns teasing, lightening the mood. "Of course, that's only because I haven't had the equivalent benefit of a week's worth of _chocolate_ to consume." He smirks at her blush and the mental image of the outrageous but effective medical prescription, as she also smiles at the absurdity of the memory. "It's the most unlikely remedy I've ever heard of," he chuckles, shaking his head absently. "Carlisle will get a kick out of that."

Bella raises her eyebrow. "Because vampirism is a _so_ much more reasonable treatment for the Spanish flu," she retorts sarcastically.

Edward laughs. "True," he allows, nevertheless grateful for the outcome that made it possible for him to be with her today. Bella smiles back at him.

_So I wasn't imagining, then? _Albus studies the color of his eyes again, remembering. _Their eyes get darker with stress- or emptiness. Hunger. Interesting._

As Edward's attention returns to the topic at hand, all humor is suddenly gone from his demeanor. "It's a good thing Jasper wasn't here, though," he adds as an afterthought.

Bella, surprised by and a little confused at the nature of his comment, defends her soon-to-be brother-in-law in a reprimanding tone of voice: "Edward! He has better control than that!"

Edward smiles fondly at her indignant outburst. "I know he does. But I think the experience would have drained _him_ _more_ than the rest of us… perhaps quite significantly."

Albus is puzzled. "Why would that be?"

Edward looks at him seriously. "Jasper is an empath. In the presence of a dementor, he wouldn't _only_ be experiencing the emotional drain that was directed at his own _self_, but _also_ the emotional distress of _every__ other person in the vicinity_."

Albus' eyes widen in understanding as he imagines the emotionally magnified effect of such a draining encounter. _Oh._

Nodding solemnly, Edward notes: "Something like that would test anyone's control."

* * *

><p>Throughout the last segment of conversation, the Masens have been content to sit quietly by and listen in- albeit with a growing sense of alarm- as those better versed in the topics of discussion worked to hammer out the details. Now, however, their anxiety has reached a high point- and Elizabeth simply <em>needs<em> to know: "Edward- is your life _always_ this dangerous?" Her soft voice carries with it a truly overwhelming sense of loving concern for his well-being, and her forehead is wrinkled with worry over the anguish of his condition. Her stress, in relation to how hard it must all be for her son to handle, is evident.

Edward sighs, knowing that this won't be an easy topic for them to address- any more than it has _ever_ been for him. "I suppose that depends on your point of view," he ventures solemnly. His voice turns softer, more introspective. "Every interaction we _have_ with the human world is a matter of life or death…" He absently twirls a lock of Bella's hair around his finger as he continues: "…the longevity of _their_ lives, for better or for worse, has a direct connection to the quality of _ours_. Most end up thinking of it as an either-or thing: unavoidable; a necessary evil… but some of us realize that it goes deeper than that.

"It _is_ true that the penchant for life-threatening interaction is an instinctive part of our nature, when it comes to humans. So in a moral, psychological way- the answer would be _yes_: resisting that outcome _is_ a constant challenge… though, I've gotten used to it- and it's not so difficult anymore. It _does_ help, that in doing so- we have gained a quality of life that's otherwise unheard of in our world: so many of us living in harmony without compelling influences… truly being a _family_… having a place to call home… and," he looks at Bella meaningfully, tenderly, stroking her hair with gentle fingers, "experiencing the kind of relationships you'd walk through fire for."

With a small smile full of both pride and regret, Bella's thumb draws soothing circles on his knee as she thinks about the burning he has to go through _all day every day_, just to be with her. Albus watches them, recalling the fiery shield charm Edward followed her through, and is impressed.

"Physically, on the other hand-" he shrugs, "we are apex predators… supernaturally enhanced and virtually indestructible. Given our everlasting constitutions and the strength of our grouping in both numbers and skills- truly, aside from the Volturi, there really isn't much out there that could threaten us. That being the case, the only _personally_ life-threatening situations I've ever encountered, have been since I met Bella." As Bella's expression twists into one of chagrin, Edward smiles wryly at the irony and begins drawing comforting circles on her back. Then, indicating her with a fond nod of his head, he concludes: "She's a danger magnet like you wouldn't believe."

Edward Sr.'s unbiased but eminently practical observation- of her as a _human_ engaged to marry his _vampire_ son- crosses Edward's mind. "Or- maybe you would," he allows.

Elizabeth smiles slightly at his attempt at humor. Though her anxiety is far from erased, she is noticeably calmer after Edward's explanation. The truth is hard, but there is a lot of personal strength in evidence behind it. She can't but be happy for him about _that_.

"But I couldn't have asked for a more perfect woman," Edward assures them with a smile, hugging her closely as she blushes. "She makes _everything_ worthwhile."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** The comparison of Twilight vampires to classic werewolves _is_ a rather fascinating one. If you think about it, since a classic werewolf is only in his supernatural form for approximately one day out of every 30, it could conceivably take him _30 years_ to attain the same degree of supernatural self-mastery that a vampire would reach after only one. And of course, undead vampires barely out of their newborn year are _not_ known for their constraint. No _wonder_ werewolves are reputed to be 'rarely in control of themselves!' Being inherently _mortal_ as they are, by the time they would gain that kind of control- _if_ they ever do- they've probably nearly reached the end of their lifespan. In light of this, the efforts of all the old marauders on Remus Lupin's behalf become all the more remarkable! Amazing!

Oops! Sorry for the late update! I forgot. :P Thanks everyone for your support!


	13. Magical Tragedy

* * * Magical Tragedy * * *

Dumbledore sighs genially, smiling – grateful for a more honest understanding of the situation, and warmed by the devotion evident between them. _So she's a danger magnet, huh? I suppose I could see that – him being a vampire and all… though it sounds as if there must be more to the story if __he's__ been threatened as well. I wonder why the dementor singled her out? It must have been a horrible feeling – being the subjects of what could have been a truly devastating encounter. The very same thing happened with __Harry__ last year, and we could never truly figure out why they singled him out then, either. _He ponders upon how Edward was able to stand up to the unfamiliar creature, all alone, in the face of such an intense emotional onslaught. Without a patronus, no wizard would have ever had a chance.

"Well, I _am_ truly sorry that you had to cross paths with that dementor," Albus apologizes sincerely, "_and_ – for any discomfort it has caused you. I'm sure it didn't exactly feel very welcoming, having to relive your worst memories." _Drowning in them is more like it; they have such a devastating presence._

Edward looks at Bella sadly, remembering clearly which memories her mumbles indicated to be her worst, and feeling immensely guilty to know that he had been the cause of them. As well, if what _she'd_ physically experienced from the dementor was anything like what _he'd_ sensed – suddenly the environment around them had felt uncharacteristically _cold_, making the touch of her skin feel scorching hot in comparison – then he _knows_ why she had been so inconsolable while in the dementor's presence. She hadn't been able to distinguish the coldness of _his_ touch from any of the rest of her surroundings… an effect that would only have exacerbated her distress, since his absence was the very nature of her nightmare. _Flinch._ Her unconsciously fragile emotions had been difficult to witness.

"They should _never_ have attacked her, however," Albus recalls regretfully. _Absolutely not!_ "Although the Ministry continues to employ them as protectors, they cannot be trusted. This isn't the first time that their actions have betrayed the Ministry's directive. For this reason, it is my policy to _not allow _them in or even around school grounds. I _am_ truly sorry. I was unaware that one had been called in, or I would have done something about it." _It is horrendous to imagine that __any__ creature would be so willing to administer a fate worse than death! Upon innocent people, no less! Yet, they have shown that they are. The last time this happened, we supposed they might have been simply acting on Voldemort's behalf… but that wouldn't appear to be the case here. So then, __why__? _"Vile creatures," he sorrowfully whispers. _ Truly, they would follow after Voldemort at the very __first__ sliver of opportunity._

Edward bows his head solemnly, his expression quietly pained. "They are no more vile than I am." His soft voice is barely audible.

Immediately Bella squeezes his knee in silent comfort, and rests her head against his shoulder. Edward hugs her to his chest, appreciating her support and understanding when it comes to dealing with the horrendous images he's witnessed of the unfairness of their lot. The Masen's thoughts shout out with objections to his statement, worried over the likelihood that he is condemning himself by it – which isn't far from the truth. Although that train of thought hadn't been foremost on Edward's mind, he wishes it was possible to tell them that their fears were unwarranted.

Dumbledore, who has become rather awe-inspiringly convinced as to the benevolence of Edward by this point, is brought up short by the intensely self-deprecating as well as compassionate nature of his reply – and recognizes that there must be a lot more to the story than he knows. He hadn't _intended_ any slight against vampires by his comment… or at least, against the commendable efforts of those such as _him_. It _is_ true, however, that the wizarding world has never been able to figure out precisely how the dementors came to be. Could Edward's mind reading talent have picked up on this crucial bit of information? It would be _fantastic_ if he had; this was one of the great mysteries of the magical world! In lieu of such knowledge, and due to the fact that dementors have always exhibited such an obviously _evil_ influence upon their environment, the wizarding community had come to conclude that the story behind it was not ultimately important. The nature of their choices painted them for what they were. Unable to comprehend what about this nature would have triggered a compassionate response, however, Dumbledore wonders about what Edward might have heard.

Head still bowed, eyes focused upon his thumb drawing circles on the back of Bella's hand, Edward continues quietly: "You do not know their story? I would have thought your legilimens would have learned of it by now."

"No, they've been unable to." Albus' brow is furrowed with concern about what could be behind the sudden gravity of Edward's mood. "Apparently, a dementor's mind is part of a collective consciousness, and as such has not been conducive to simple legilimency." _Not that the magic of legilimency has ever been __simple__. Even at its most basic level, it is an advanced skill to master. That's why what __you__ can do is so fascinating._ "Long ago, the ministry was able to convince a couple of _adepts_ to make the attempt – but it turned out to be too intense for them when they tried. They both went mad. Since then, no one else has volunteered."

Edward grimaces, and his voice is subdued. "I can't say that I'm surprised. They all live in absolute torment; it hurts to hear. But… _she needs her story to be told_." He sighs in surrender at that realization, and looks at Bella regretfully – wishing he could spare her the heartache that is to come, but knowing she would never allow it.

Dumbledore's eyes widen with the confirmed realization that Edward _has_, in fact, heard them. "_She?_" Underneath the amazement, and horror, his voice is keen with interest. He wants desperately to understand.

Edward nods solemnly. "Yes, they are all 'she.'" His voice is subdued, as if he had just come upon the scene of some noble woman who had been terribly wronged. "Every one of them was _human_, once upon a time – some of them male, most of them female… though it doesn't matter now. Individually, they can no longer be identified by gender – and do not think of themselves as such – though as elements of their collective psyche, all those inherent aspects still remain. Instead, they perceive of themselves as a single entity, and their cumulative mindset is decidedly feminine.

"They all share the same mind… a mind which grows in complexity every time a new individual is added unto them. Although they interact with the world as separate units, in reality they are all one _body_… and as such – what is binding upon any one of them, binds them all. This mode of being also ensures that the intrapersonal reality of her psyche cannot be _hidden_ from the rest of the world. Insomuch as she experiences the emotions of _any _nearby presence almost as if it were an aspect of her _own_, neither can _we_ naturally avoid being suffused by those of _hers_. It is as a _consequence_ of these phenomenons that they've come to be as you know them – creatures of evil. But it wasn't _always_ that way – and they _never_ _chose_ it to be such.

"You see, her _existence_ is an accidental product of magic. The transformation into what she _is_ was the unexpected result of various magical contracts left unfulfilled… unbreakable vows which unwittingly bound their souls to remain behind when death would have otherwise taken them. Usually, these vows were entered into so as to provide tangible promises of devotion for their loved ones. Those whose commitments were able to be fulfilled _before_ their death, were fortunate; for them the transformation was not necessary. But others – who had taken vows of _undying_ devotion, or which had been otherwise based upon a lifespan that was not their own, but which outlived theirs… those whose vows could not be fulfilled in death became transfigured into such a being as could endure to fulfill it.

"In the beginning, this did not pose a problem for any of them – though it wasn't at all what they had expected of their afterlife. They awoke to find themselves intrinsic to a greater consciousness: _She_ who is most properly known as The Guardian of Souls. As aspects of _her_, they have an inherent feel for the underlying nature of everything around them, as well as an acute awareness of all forces that are binding upon them. They can also remember every moment of their human lives with clarity… which is fortunate, because _emotions_ are their eyes now – and they paint a very different picture.

"From various human memories, they've been able to piece together many things – including an image of what their appearance used to be… and also as it is now. Originally, it seems, they looked a lot like handsomely gnarled tree trunks – posed into strangely human forms and appearing every bit as vital as if they might have just lost their leaves for the season… though they were hard as stone to the touch.

"The inherent effect they had upon their environment, then, was very subtle – as was their prevalent emotion. For better or for worse, they also could not interactively _communicate_ with _anyone_, and so it became their practice to simply park themselves for long periods of time and observe – lending help where they could. Those that weren't stationed to watch over promised families and loved ones, sequestered themselves together on an island somewhere… and were eventually introduced to the wizarding world as Europe's own magically petrified forest."

Recognizing the legendary landmark, Albus leans forward to gasp with wide-eyed astonishment: "Is this… the Forest of Legend?" His mind runs through every tale he's run across in relation to it, trying to match up the facts and get a feel for the timeline involved. _That stone forest was discovered over 2500 years ago!_

With a nod, Edward confirms: "Yes, it is one and the same."

"Oh my," Albus exclaims softly, taking a wide-eyed moment to swallow the lump in his throat – born of trying to reconcile the profoundly different perceptions of their past, with those of their present. Quickly coming back to himself, with a bit of effort, he turns to the Masens – and also Bella – in order to explain what he has realized of the forest's significance.

"The Stone Forest of Legend was discovered in 647 B.C by some local explorers of the Baltic Isles," Albus explains. "It was thought to be of ancient origin – both because it seemed to be imbued with a timeless wisdom, and also because the magic that created it proved to be indecipherable to any wizard who tried to understand it. It became well-known for its magnificent leafless beauty, and was said to be infused with such a profound sense of _peace_ that even the most weary and distraught traveler could find solace therein.

"The effect was so pronounced, that eventually it became the prime attraction of the Baltic Traveler's Retreat – a wizarding resort community that was built up around it and flourished in its burgeoning popularity. It was a favored destination for several hundred years, and has been the subject of many ballads and written accounts... each praising the beautiful serenity that was so miraculously inherent to it.

"And then one night – during a particularly nasty storm at sea – it mysteriously vanished. Residents woke up to find the ground where it had been, all bare and smooth – showing no trace of roots or turbulence whatsoever. It was as if the whole forest had been completely _wiped off the map_… and if it hadn't been for its substantial legacy, it would have seemed as if it had never really existed at all."

Bella shudders uncontrollably at the personal memories his account brings to mind, and Edward's arm tightens around her securely. She leans her head against his shoulder, grateful for the comfort, and he kisses her forehead – rocking gently. Albus notices the emotionally distressed exchange, and wonders what kind of memories could have been behind it… though he knows better than to ask them right now.

Still holding onto Bella firmly, as if for dear life, Edward finally speaks up in conclusion of the headmaster's tale: "That was the day she became the victim of an unbreakable vow – from which she is unable to redeem herself."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** No_ soul_ can be evil by _definition_; it's an impossibility. _Definitely_ by ignorance and subsequent choice, and _maybe_ by circumstance – but _not_ by definition. Hereby I assert: dementors have always been grossly misunderstood.

Thanks for reading, and please review! The bulk of their story will come next post. :) (And be forewarned of potential emotional triggers.)


	14. The Horror of Babylon

* * * The Horror of Babylon * * *

Faces of horror gaze back at Edward from everyone situated across the room. His last statement and previous explanation have just made it painfully clear that the dementors had become the way they were through no fault of their own. Though the Masens have never actually _seen_ one of them before, they had heard tell over the years enough to suppose how awful a tragedy that must have been. Albus, on the other hand, who has witnessed enough of their devastating presence first-hand to know how evilly powerful it really is… simply cannot imagine- cannot fathom- how catastrophically fatal of an experience it had to have been, for _anyone_ to have become innocently trapped into a state such as that… let alone so _many_.

Bella's tears flow freely. In the silence, Edward gathers her up onto his lap as he twists around to stretch his legs out on the couch beneath her. She curls willingly into his cool embrace, cuddling up to his chest and hugging him tightly. Pulling her close against him, he nuzzles his face into her hair and takes in a long breath of her scent- before straightening up slightly as if in readiness to continue. His fingers begin to trace soothing patterns against her back.

"It was the night of the Harvest Moon, in early 5th century A.D.," Edward expounds softly, "when their catalytic member was transfigured. Her name was Sophia, and her vows were much the same as many of the rest of theirs had been. In order to satisfy her distraught husband of her unswerving loyalty, in the wake of a recently acquired though _undeserved_ ignominious reputation, she had reiterated her marriage covenant in the form of an unbreakable vow: to honor and obey him… for better or for worse… for as long as they both should live.

"His name was Babylon Grenadier- a respected political leader and prominent figure of their time. They also had a young son, whom she adored, and for whom she made another vow while in his presence: a mother's promise of _eternal_ love and devotion, as well as protection from danger to the best of her ability- for him and his progeny, all the days of their lives.

"It was this _second_ vow that ultimately caused her transformation, when she would have otherwise succumbed to disease while her son was yet in his youthful prime… and it would have been no more remarkable of a transition than it was for any of the others- if it hadn't been for the circumstances of the _first_. You see- subsequent to her vow, and unbeknownst to her, her husband had immersed himself so thoroughly into the theories of _dark_ magic- that he had created, for himself, a horcrux… and by so doing, formed the binding legacy that would prove to be her downfall.

"They were never actually able to determine whether he suspected, or not, the effect his actions would ultimately have upon his wife's future, when he created it… but the effect on all of them would have been the same in either case." Edward pauses to take in another deep, calming draw of Bella's scent, before continuing. It's as if he needs the strength. "The creation of a horcrux is a particularly vicious piece of magic… fundamentally devastating to its maker's soul, and by extension- all those who are bound to honor it." His voice is quiet, and subtly intense with emotion- a quality that does not go unnoticed by any of his concerned listeners. "It requires the _killing_ of someone- for no other purpose than to split off a piece of _its maker's__ own soul_ by so doing, such that it can be collected for relative safekeeping within an object of their choice. It serves as a rudimentary means of obtaining immortality in this life, since without the presence of one's _whole _soul-" his voice wavers slightly, "a person is unable to pass on to that realm where _souls_ go to dwell, after the death of their mortal body. The whole idea is based upon the observation that- according to folklore: all those of us, who have traditionally been attributed with the gift of eternal life in _this_ realm, have to _kill_ to live."

Edward frowns, unhappy with this outlook of his existence- and wishes desperately, by this reckoning, that his soul wasn't surely lost somewhere in his past. He can't discount their knowledge of the inner workings of such, however. Being subject, as they are, to the legacy of souls by their very _nature_- the dementors would _know_ better than anyone. Bella's fingers tighten around him in loving support, reassurance, _or_ distraction from his thoughts- he's not sure which- and he welcomes another burning but deeply calming whiff of her scent.

"Although her vow to honor and obey him now had sway over the entire body of guardians," he continues, "they had already made their peace with vows of that nature, so it wasn't really an issue. However, for it to have been extended _indefinitely_ in such a _soul-destroying_ manner… simply crushed them. They could sense the horcrux's existence, because it was now as binding upon them as was _he_, and they knew of its inherently evil nature. Though they wished to have _no_ part in support of such a thing- it was clear that they could do nothing to destroy it… nor could they tell anyone about it.

"It was enough to shatter the peace they had previously attained. They had to abandon their treasured retreat- and the solace it had given them to bring such comfort to so many. They simply could not offer a peace they no longer had. For a time, all of them sequestered themselves away from the population- knowing that their chaotic emotions of distress wouldn't have been a helpful influence upon anyone.

"It wasn't until what must have been years later, that they discovered the true extent of Babylon's damning reality. Two more horcruxes had been created during that time, sending the lot of them into a helpless panic. But then: _he_ died. They felt some measure of hope from this- confident that, at the very least, he wouldn't be able to make any _more_ of them. And so they came back- tentatively- to their watchful posts… desperately holding on to that hope in order to present a helpful influence to those they wished to serve.

"They stayed in the shadows this time, though- offering their support in a much more temporary capacity because of the fragility of their emotions. It was in this fashion that they chanced upon the three horcruxes one day, purely by accident. The three objects of Babylon's soul were easily recognized for what they were… but nothing could have prepared them for the shock that accompanied that realization: they were _living beings_. And to top it off: These were souls that they were devoted to protecting.

"Consumed with horror and despair, they had had to retreat again immediately. There was no consoling Sophia. Babylon had made a horcrux of her only child- her beloved little boy… and, contrary to their previous belief- he had not actually _created_ any more of them. It had simply replicated itself. The other two were _children_ of the original; Sophia's grandchildren. Babylon had made them _all _unwitting accomplices to his evil legacy."

Involuntary whimpers accompany a noticeable increase in the flow of Bella's tears. Edward looks at her with an expression full of the deepest sadness, wiping them away fruitlessly with gentle fingers. The Masens are holding on to each other tightly- both of them seeming on the edge of collapsing under the weight of the story. Albus looks sick. A single note from Fawkes hovers in the air for a moment, providing an unearthly sense of comfort… and its much-needed soothing influence helps take the edge off of the tension for everyone in the room.

Finally, and gratefully, Edward resumes his devastating narration in a gentle voice. "If there had been any shred of hope remaining that their assessment of its replicating nature might have been inaccurate, it was unquestionably shattered a short time later, when _another_ was born. They knew then, that there would be no end to their despair."

"Over the years following," he manages to continue, "it was all they could do to simply stay _away_ from civilization; they were truly in _no_ shape to inspire it. Through the eyes of subsequent members, they watched as the nature of the curse slowly but surely took over her once-loving family. The number of horcruxes multiplied freely, for a time- only to finally start petering off as the souls of each generation gradually became _darker_ than the ones before.

"At some point during this period, their existence was discovered by the Ministry. It was a chaotic confrontation… which couldn't really have gone any other way, given the overwhelming emotional state of her collective consciousness. That's what happens when one suddenly becomes infused with a multitude of more pleasant emotions, after having been denied them for so long. It's involuntary. Foreign emotions are, for her, more potent than _air_ is to a drowning man; she simply can't get enough of them. _Anything_ is better than having to feel her _own_.

"Many more such conflicts occurred, following that initial encounter, while the Ministry worked to gain the upper hand. But, for her, the damage had already been done. Her solitude had been broken; the _only_ method of control she had at her disposal. Her pain could no longer be kept apart from the world. Eventually, someone figured out how to use her own despair against her… and then, one of Sophia's own descendants made the request that she do what the Ministry required of her. She was unable to refuse.

"That's how she's come to be as she is now- a complex emotional being consumed with darkness. No one ever suspected that dementors might have been different, once upon a time… since they look- and feel- nothing like they did before. In actuality, they appear to be rotted and emaciated versions of the beauty they once knew. As soon as _she_ discovered this, each of them was quick to don what cloaks the ministry provided… wanting desperately to cover _her_self up in her disgrace. The ministry ultimately put them to work as high-security prison guards, charged with keeping the worst criminals of the magical world under control. To this end, _she_ now primarily resides at a remote island fortress called Azkaban."

Edward sighs reluctantly, wishing that he could have a better conclusion to offer. "It _is_ true, that they would follow after Voldemort- the darkest soul the wizarding world has ever known- were he to ask them. He is a descendant of Sophia, after all- the _last_, in fact… although that particular tidbit of information offers them no consolation. He has made horcruxes of his own, you see- and many of _them_ are _not_ living. Thus they are contractually bound to help him, until the end of time, whether they want to or not. They exist, in a state of eternal despair, without hope."

Both of the ladies break down in sobs at this admission, their Edwards desperately trying to offer support through their own distress. Albus slumps forward, his head in trembling hands, appreciating Fawkes' warm weight upon his shoulder.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Thank you_ for your encouraging reviews! This is a very important element of the story to me, and I hope I've done it a service. Thank you for reading! And I hope you continue to enjoy it.


	15. Dangerous Destiny

* * * Dangerous Destiny * * *

Fawkes' gentle song helps them all become calm enough to regain their composures, before very long. Now that the biggest shock is behind them, Albus knows there is work to be done. The Horcruxes _need_ to be eliminated. _Just how is that to be accomplished, though? How many are there? How are they destroyed? Where do we look for them? How are they to be identified? _Albus folds his hands together, resting his chin upon them thoughtfully. _Tom Riddle's diary- which Harry destroyed two years ago- contained traces of some seriously dark magic... and the possessive effect it had upon Ginny __could__ have been truly __soul-destroying__ for her, if anyone had actually died. Its nature was consistent with what has been described. Could that actually have been one of them? _Albus is the first to speak up and resume the conversation, his tone serious. "Can you tell us about the horcruxes that still remain?" _C__ould__ you help us identify what __they__ are__? Please!_

Edward smiles gratefully, appreciative of his willingness to do what it takes to free the Guardians of this curse. He hopes that they will be able to do enough to really make a difference. No one should have to live like that… _especially _forever.

"Well, I can tell you _some_," he offers. "No one knows _another's_ soul better than those who are the guardians _of_ it. Regretfully, however, they aren't in fact _aware_ of exactly what any of the horcruxes _are_ or where they are _located_. They only know this for the ones they've actually run across. But- what they _can_ tell is how _many_ there are- or _were_ at any given time- and whether or not they are _alive_. Exact dates are sketchy, since they can only mark time by the reckoning of their human memories- or by the occasional comments voiced by humans in their vicinity… but- thinking chronologically- it is clear that the second set of horcruxes wasn't created until after the beginning of the Second World War.

"Just prior to that time, there had been only _two_ of Babylon's progeny left remaining. If the dwindling trend had continued as they might have hoped, both of them would have died off within the next hundred years or so- and they'd have been free of the curse. However, during the war- two _new_ horcruxes came into being… and since they could tell that _these_ were _not _alive, as were the ones before- it was evident that one of Babylon's descendants was actively creating them.

"After the war was over, three more non-living horcruxes came into existence in relatively short succession… and the other descendant of Babylon died- in Azkaban, no less. His name was Morfin Gaunt."

Albus starts visibly, recognizing the name from having previously uncovered details of Voldemort's past during an earlier effort to defeat him- which ended almost 14 years ago.

"Nothing happened for many years after that…" Edward reveals emotionlessly, "until the night Voldemort died, creating a living horcrux of his own."

"_What!_" Albus did not expect this. "A _living_ horcrux?" _No. Oh, no._ "But… he died trying to kill _Harry_, and the curse backfired!" _This cannot be! Please tell me it isn't true! We know __Harry has a __connection__ to Voldemort… but- as a __horcrux__? __No__, please no!_

Edward's expression twists sympathetically at his distress, not liking to be the bearer of bad news. He doesn't know whether his information will ultimately confirm or deny Albus' horrific suspicion, but it doesn't look promising at the moment… and the only way to find out is to continue relaying it. "Only Voldemort's _physical_ form was dead, of course- but it was enough that he couldn't create any more horcruxes. All became quiet again on the soul front, for a while after that… until just recently, when- to their surprise- one of the inanimate horcruxes was destroyed."

Albus' pained eyes raise hopefully, observing that this event could very easily have been connected with the destruction of Tom Riddle's diary. Harry was able to defeat it with a basilisk fang. At least- it's clear to them all how such a profoundly imbued magical object could be destroyed.

"Shortly after that, the ministry stationed them around Hogwarts…," Edward recognizes the experiences of the canine wizard he noticed earlier, and huffs indignantly, "to protect against an innocent wizard," he interjects in a disapproving tone, "...where they chanced to cross paths with Voldemort's living horcrux."

_This was just last year! Oh, no. The timeline is too consistent. __Harry__ was here__- being 'protected' from Sirius Black, his godfather. This doesn't look good._ The headmaster's thoughts are in turmoil.

"They actually ran across him numerous times;" Edward's voice softens, "he's a student here- innocent, and mostly oblivious to his condition. They would have taken action many times- in order to spare him the heartache of such a tortured destiny- but he was too well protected by his peers. Though it came close… in the end they were unable to administer their kiss of mercy before they were sent away."

_Kiss of __Mercy__? They almost __succeeded__ in giving their devastating kiss to __Harry__ at the end of last year, but how would that have been __merciful__?_ "Is that why they attacked Harry? Because… he's a horcrux?" Albus' trembling voice almost stumbles over those last words. _That would constitute the __worst__ kind of curse on his life. Oh, please no!_

"Not _just_ because he's a horcrux…" Edward begins, speaking gently.

Albus' face falls, and he suddenly looks older than ever. _So it's confirmed, _he concludes despondently, his eyes glistening.

"…but also because he was _innocent_."

_Because__ he was innocent? _Albus' questioning expression is heavy with the despair of the revelation. But he is trying to understand.

"She's seen what being horcruxes has done to her family." Edward explains quietly. "The influence of such within their psyche has caused them to _do_ terrible things… _be_ terrible people. She wanted _so_ much more for them. Many times, she would have gladly stepped in to do something about it- in order to save their _souls_- but she could not. She remains bound to not take the lives of her children, or to compromise the health of their horcruxes in any way. She has had to watch and suffer in silence.

"Harry's life exists outside of these constraints, however. Although she still could not compromise the horcrux he carries, she wanted to spare his _soul_ the pain of being destroyed by it."

Albus is astonished by this… and a little awed. _This reasoning is more compassionate than seems consistent with that kind of fate. _"But… I thought her kiss was a fate worse than _death_!" _To lose one's soul- forever- into the emptiness of her being… that would be the __epitome__ of horror! Or at least, _he reconsiders, _that's how we've always thought of it. _

Edward's smile is grim. "It's not; it only _looks_ like it. A soul, through her- passes to the same place _all_ souls go upon death... if they are whole," he whispers the last part. "She calls it the Realm of Souls. The only thing is- she doesn't _kill_ their body in the process. To the observer, who still identifies with the body- the idea of their lifelessly animated form _would_ be a little scary."

"Indeed,"Albus nods, still pained. _Ah, but I can see now why they would have taken Harry. Such an awful fate! _He mourns. _He cannot __live__- most especially in regards to the joys of creating a __family__- without contributing to the problem! Harry could never want that; he is an honorable young man. In fact, I imagine if he __knew__ about all of this- and his role in it… I wouldn't put it past him to devote his __entire life__ to eradicating every last piece of Voldemort's soul, just so the curse would be able to die with him. 'Neither can live while the other survives.' Oh, Harry! I never before realized just how telling that was. _

Edward sighs, lowering his gaze thoughtfully, knowing that it isn't even as 'simple' as that. "There's more," he informs Albus quietly. "The tale doesn't end there."

Albus isn't the only one whose eyes widen with dread, though he _is_ the quickest to control his expression- and urge Edward to continue on.

"Earlier this school year," he explains softly, "Voldemort's essence began to feel more substantial to her- more solid, in a way… as if his deceased spirit had somehow been able to return to a rudimentary physical form. Not very long after this happened, another horcrux was created- of the _living_ variety… shortly thereafter followed by _five more_ in quick succession."

As Edward's tally of the horcrux count grew, Albus looked as if he felt each one as a fresh stab to the chest.

"Thus, there currently exist _4_ inanimate and _7_ living horcruxes, all of Voldemort's design, which anchor Babylon's curse upon them." Edward's face is an emotionless mask as he summarizes the devastation. "This is, of course, in _addition_ to the essence of Voldemort's _person_, which is threatening to be reborn at any moment… and doesn't count the one that was destroyed _already_. Ultimately," he quietly observes, "it would seem he has managed to divide his soul into 13 distinct parts." He pauses introspectively before whispering: "Very unlucky."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** And so the real challenge becomes evident. It was always no more than an educated _guess_ that all of the horcruxes were destroyed by the end of Deathly Hallows... and a society simply _convinced_ of that belief that kept Voldemort from coming back to antagonize them all over again. Now, we _know_ better.

Thanks, everyone, for your reviews, favorites, and alerts! They are exciting and encouraging to receive. Please enjoy, and share your thoughts! Thanks for reading!


	16. Plan of Action

* * * Plan of Action * * *

For a moment, the silence is profound.

"Do you… have any idea who these… _other_… living horcruxes… might be?" The question is painful for Albus to articulate, but it is vitally important.

Edward replies softly. "No, I don't. I can only even _imagine_ that he intended to make them. However, I _don't_ see _Harry_ having had any part in this… and the timing is just too suspiciously convenient to ignore the substantial changes that have occurred within _Voldemort's_ personal essence. I think we have to assume… that he has personally created them _all_."

Albus nods slowly in agreement, his face drawn and his heart heavy. _Six strangers- in __addition__ to Harry- _he acknowledges mournfully, thoroughly aware that he cannot in good conscience wish that _any_ of them were _dead_… even if it _would_ be the only way to fix the problem. _Thirteen__ soul fragments… such a superstitiously significant number __does__ sound like one Voldemort would pursue… and that's only the beginning. _The reality of it all makes him feel older than he ever has. _No wonder they feel hopeless._

_Yet… we __do__ have hope. _Albus' sudden thought is reassuring, and he quickly reiterates it verbally so that everyone can realize it. "There _is_ hope, though," the aged headmaster offers, and every pair of troubled eyes readily trains on him. "There exists a prophecy concerning Harry and Voldemort- part of which has already come true. This prophecy rather clearly asserts that Harry_ will have the power to defeat him_. Considering what we've just learned about the whole _unconscionable_ situation- I don't really know _how_ that could still be accurate… and yet- it _must_ be. That _has_ to mean something."

Edward nods in thoughtful acceptance of his hope. The outlook is bleak, but as he has come to know all too well: such blessings are to be thoroughly appreciated, lest in neglect they conspire to disappear altogether. His arms tighten gently around Bella's form- truly the embodiment of his _own_ life and hope- as he nuzzles his face into her hair.

Across the room, Albus' desperately hopeful demeanor gradually turns into one of powerful resolve. His eyes blaze with a hidden strength, and for a moment- the innate power of his being that has kept him youthfully vital even throughout his advanced age, is very evident. "It would seem I have my work cut out for me," he concludes evenly. "We're going to have to know exactly who and what we're dealing with, before we can have any chance of nurturing a resolution." _I will do everything __I__ can__ to give us that chance._ "And, somehow," _because we can never allow ourselves to stoop to Voldemort's level, even if it looks like the only way, _"we'll need to discover that critical piece of information that will tell us how it can all be accomplished _humanely_." _Truly, it is this factor, or lack thereof, that has the potential to ultimately make or break the effort. Finding out some good news to this end would mean the world to us. _

"The information you've provided tonight has been _invaluable_ already." Albus addresses Edward specifically, eyes brimming with earnest gratitude. "_Thank you_ very much for this…"_ truly, from the bottom of my heart_. "I will begin my research straightaway. As it turns out, there is a substantial network of resources at my disposal- and I do know him better than most; he was my student once," _here at Hogwarts. Tom Riddle. Never able to be trusted, but charming and accomplished enough that everyone else liked to think he was_. "We'll figure this out."

_It'll need to be kept secret, of course,_ Albus muses._ Voldemort must __never__ suspect. But at least- I don't think he has any inherent awareness of what happens to severed parts of his soul once they've been disconnected. If he'd __known__ of the diary's fate, I imagine the horcrux count would have already been one higher to make up for it. But it __isn't__. This is good news… because if he had any reason to believe that they __were__ being targeted… there's no telling how many more he'd create to make up for them. Shudder. I hope that he isn't __already__ planning to make any more; that would be absolutely awful! Not to mention- all the more difficult to predict, and destroy. _

Edward's acknowledging smile is gracious, but also grim. He sighs, and pauses thoughtfully. "If you would let us know when you think you've identified them, I could help you confirm your theories, one way or another," he volunteers, hiding his distaste of the prospect behind an indifferent facade. Though having to listen to the dementors' torment ever again is not at _all_ appealing, he wants to be able to help them find their resolution. _She_ didn't choose this life any more than he did, after all, and they live in such _exquisite_ pain. While, even as awful as this is, her plight nonetheless pales in importance next to Bella's _safety_… being as it appears he may be the only one communicatively capable of helping them ensure success at this endeavor- he can't deny them his cooperation.

"Thank you," Albus returns sincerely, with a sparkle in his eye. His thoughts have garnered hope from Edward's offer- that this could possibly indicate that the golden vampires would be willing to aid them in the wizarding war to come. _We've learned tonight that Voldemort is poised to be restored at any moment. Once he is, he'll have eyes and ears __everywhere__. In no time, the Wizarding World will be in uproar and we'll have a war on our hands, __again__. People will be tortured and dying, fear spreading, Voldemort's forces rallying… _Various memories of the previous war play like a reel of film through his conscious mind. _ It'll be __worse__ than before; we'll need all the help we can get. _

_And yet, _he argues with himself,_ they __are__ still vampires; this is foolishness to even suggest. It can't be easy for them… he's said as much already. I haven't even __met__ the others- though obviously __she__ has, and she trusts them __completely__. _(Once again he marvels at that.)_ Any sane wizard would have my hide if they knew what I was considering. However…_ his mind touches sadly upon the numerous images of friends who've died, or otherwise lost their lives, in the war already… _Sigh. It would be dangerous either way, _he concludes. _Maybe- they wouldn't have __had__ to__ die. It wouldn't hurt to see what he has to say…?_

"You know," the headmaster ventures, "with the resurgence of Voldemort imminent, the magical community will shortly be finding themselves in the midst of a wizarding war. It will be part two of the _same_ war we were fighting against him thirteen years ago, when he attacked Harry and disappeared. While I _do_ understand that our conflicts wouldn't even be happening near your neck of the woods… _nor_ would they be likely to ever threaten you…" _truly__,__ you have __no__ obligation…_ "would you by any chance be…" _interested? No, let me rephrase that more hopefully-_ "at all possibly _willing_ to stand with us in our fight against Voldemort? Your _help_ would be unquestionably valuable..." _a__s it already __truly __has been._

At the suggestion of fighting- even if only against oblivious magical _human_ foes- Bella twists to look up at her fiancé in concern. Edward's expression looks troubled. From across the room, Elizabeth watches him from her canvas setting with mounting apprehension- fully aware of just how willing he was to head off to war when he came of age, and not quite sure just how dangerous it would be if he were to do so now. Her husband strokes her hair soothingly, his mind all but thoroughly convinced that- given his new circumstances- such an endeavor would not pose a threat to their son at all.

After a moment of silent deliberation, during which he gently strokes Bella's face while placing a strand of hair behind her ear as their gazes mingle, Edward finally replies: "You present a compelling dilemma. On the one hand, first and foremost: I will _not_ have Bella anywhere near a war zone. I would rather stay out of it _altogether_ than allow for that." His voice is determined, and his protective attitude is clearly evident. "But also…" his voice softens "it would be difficult to effectively participate _without_ blowing our cover in a wizarding world environment. There are too many factors that could reveal us for what we are, combined with too many factors that would make _wizardkind_ more inclined to notice." _Humans with animal senses, to begin with… Sirius Black would have needed only to catch my predator scent to notice something was seriously amiss._

"This doesn't even take into account the very _real_ potential of being a danger ourselves on a battlefield, were our instincts to be triggered. For most of us, free-flowing human blood can be an easy catalyst towards such an undesirable outcome, because the temptation is difficult to ignore. For that reason most of all- we usually make it a _point_ to not get involved in human conflicts."

Albus nods in reluctant acquiescence, unable to deny the wisdom of his admission.

"However," Edward continues- cradling Bella to him tenderly as he recalls the painfully absolute yet undeserved torment of their unpretentious companions among the undead… respectfully acknowledging their innocent desire, in spite of it all, to offer Bella the _best_ happiness they could for her own sake… all while knowing full well how thoroughly his family would also sympathize with their condition… "we would fight for _Her_." His compassionately soft-spoken and almost reverential tone, coupled with his words, clearly indicates he is referring to the newly revealed Immortal Guardian of Souls. "Perhaps we could figure something out."

As Edward's gaze meets Albus' in a final bid of understanding between them, offering to the professor's keen gaze a glimpse of the profound depths of hidden pain that this situation has stirred within the vampire, Albus realizes for the first time just how much this opportunity of fulfillment would mean to them. _They __identify__ with her (or __would__, __at least__, as the case may be). Perhaps it __simply __has to do with being a fellow immortal… but __no__,_ he observes,_ it goes deeper than that. They have a sympathetic pain of their own.__ They would help her be relieved of it… probably, to the same degree as they wish to be relieved of it themselves. Truly benevolent, _he venerates_. It's no wonder their eyes are golden; they live by the Golden Rule._

Edward diverts his eyes uncomfortably at the praise. It's hard to accept, being that there are parts of his life he will _always remember_- that were unworthy of it. But still, he appreciates the sentiment. Especially coming from a human- it's encouraging. He wonders if that could be anything like what Bella sees in him.

_You know, it's funny… _Albus continues, musing to himself. _I have been so used to thinking of all of this as an effort __against__ Voldemort__, that I would never have imagined we'd actually find meaning in this culminating endeavor from two totally different directions (theirs being __for__ Her__)__. But, it's true: t__heir purpose parallels ours__… and, is just as motivating. Our goals are identical. We __can__ work together! _He smiles, encouraged.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thank you so much for your sweet reviews, favorites, and alerts! With this chapter, I hope their course is tentatively clear: there will be no upcoming Cullens-attending-Hogwarts scenario, although they will in no way be out of the picture. Rather, I'm rather excited to explore just how cleverly they can be integrated into the effort. :) There are great things yet to come! Thanks for reading!


	17. Confessions of a Soul

* * * Confessions of a Soul * * *

Inside the peaceful confines of their landscape frame, the Masens struggle with the uncomfortable tension generated by the latest news. The dangers involved are more evident now, having been spelled out to their understanding. Their honorable _vampire_ son, in coordination with the protection of his sweet _human_ fiancé, is going to be taking on some kind of hazardous role in support of the success of all this… and as portrait characters, their inability to truly interact with him, help ensure their safety, and/or otherwise _participate_ in any capacity- except at a thoughtful level- is frustrating. Edward ruefully agrees with their assessment, though it doesn't lessen- to any degree- the wonderful fortune of being able to have them here with him again, in his 'life', _at all_.

Albus, on the other hand, finds himself feeling more relaxed than he thought would be possible- given all that they've learned tonight. It's been a fortunate turn of events. After a polite pause in the conversation, he leans forward, curious to follow up on the few unanswered questions that remain. "If you don't mind my asking, I'd like to follow up on a few points I still don't quite understand," he addresses Edward respectfully.

Edward nods in acceptance.

Recalling Fudge's account of the dementor's attack, Albus wonders aloud: "Why was it that the dementor decided to attempt a kiss on Bella?" _It __must__ have been a different reason than the one that compelled them to make the same attempt on __Harry__… but I have no idea what it could be. __I __imagine__ he might know. _

Bella's knowingly concerned gaze snaps to Edward's suddenly pained expression, and she rests her head on his shoulder, hugging his waist in support. Edward hugs her shoulders closer. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he explains in a low voice: "She recognized the vampire nature that _I_ have to be just like the _human_ nature of he-who-made-them-into-this… and she wanted to _save_ Bella from the torturous reality of a fate just like hers. _She_ felt that taking her away from what _I_ could do to her would be a mercy. Her soul would be in a safer place." He is whispering by the end of it.

Bella is on the verge of tears, hearing this- knowing how much this idea torments Edward.

Watching as he cradles a teary-eyed Bella, who has only _become_ so in response to _his_ feelings, Elizabeth realizes how deeply this issue is felt by her son. Remembering back to how sensitive he had been about earlier aspects of the _dementor's _story, she abruptly recognizes that he believes his _own_ soul has been compromised, or otherwise lost. _Not in a safe place. Oh __horrors, no__! __That's__ what he thinks? But… he has done so __well__! The proof is right before us! _she notes, as she watches him and Bella lovingly embracing. _Surely he doesn't feel that way simply __because__ he is a vampire?_Yet, in the light of attitudes she recalls he's always had, she knows that could very well be the case. _That's not true, Edward! My sweet boy! I could never have chosen that for you! _And truly, her memory of Carlisle is particularly soul-inspiring. Absolutely _not_ buying into his way of thinking at all, she nonetheless breaks down into uncontrollable sobs at the very idea that _he_ could believe such a thing about himself.

Edward Sr. holds his wife closely while she trembles in his arms. His discerning eye can tell that his son feels guilty… guilty, condemned, and unworthy. He realizes that Edward has _killed_ before, while acting upon his vampire nature. _Nothing he can do will ever fix it again… although, he would if he could. It causes him distress. Something along these lines must be what Elizabeth is reacting to._ Saddened by the unforgiving situation, he wishes he knew how to help… either of them.

When Bella looks up in surprise at Elizabeth's outburst, and quietly asks Edward what it is all about, he answers tiredly, whispering into her ear: "She just realized something about how I see the world… something that you already know." His low voice is subdued in response to his mother's anguish, and his face is tormented.

Looking at him shrewdly, Bella surmises almost silently: "She agrees with me."

"Yes," he confirms solemnly, whispering to only her. "Though, she doesn't know everything." His mother is quite unaware of all the people who have fallen at his hands.

"She doesn't _have_ to." Though silently communicated, Bella's annoyance at his self-deprecating attitude is clear. "You've said so yourself: 'No one knows _another's_ soul better than those who are the guardians _of_ it.'" Bella quotes him, whispering against his shoulder so that only he can hear: "Well, she's _one_ of them. So of _course_ she agrees. She knows it as well as _I_ do! That's exactly why you should listen to me more often! You don't see yourself clearly enough."

Edward cracks a smile in appreciation of her fervor, then whispers back, only to her: "Alright," he allows, neither embracing nor denying her assertions. "And what of yours? Are _you_ going to start believing me when I tell you how beautiful _yours_ is, inside and out?"

"Hmph," she replies almost silently, exasperated at his diversion of the subject. "That's beside the point."

"_I_ don't think so," he disagrees, so that only she can hear. "Tell you what: _I'll_ make more of an effort to not brush off _your_ compliments, if _you_ will do the same about _mine_."

Bella freezes against his shoulder, surprised at his offer, and then smiles. "You drive a hard bargain," she acknowledges, knowing it's not an easy thing he's asking her to do. But for his sake it would be worth it. "Okay. I'll try," she whispers into his shoulder.

He kisses her hair tenderly, smiling. _She did bring up a good point__, _he has to admit. _My Love __would__ be the Guardian of my Soul._

As Albus watches the scenes of distress and silent communication playing out before him, ultimately in response to Edward's regretful sensitivity to the subject, it becomes painfully clear to him that- unlike his respected mentor- Edward _has_ killed before. He's obviously not proud of it, though. From the dementor's own choices, however, it is clear that _she_ hadn't been worried about him _killing_ Bella. _So__ what exactly did she mean by 'what he could do to her'?__ Ah. _He answers his own question as it comes to him, voicing his conclusion aloud, even if quietly."This is about changing her into a vampire."

The kindly headmaster looks up at Edward keenly. _Come to think of it… __There has to be a really good reason why he hasn't done so already. Is this it? The pain they all feel? Fear for their __souls__? _His expression twists in sympathetic distress at the idea, recognizing from his own sad experience (as the image of his deceased sister Arianna comes to mind) just how frightening that kind of thinking can truly be. _That would be such a hard thing to live with._

Edward nods reluctantly, in answer to both his statement and thoughts, then turns to Bella with a hopeful note in his quiet voice: "We don't have to, you know… Underneath magical wards such as these, the Volturi couldn't _reach_ you. We could keep you safe."

Bella sighs, exasperatedly. "That wouldn't work, Edward. You _know_ they'd come after us eventually, looking for me… What would they do when they couldn't _find_ us? Terrorize the magical world? Pick off our friends, one at a time, until they got Alice's attention? Go after Charlie? …or Renee?" Her voice chokes up at the thought.

"That's why we would _all_ live under it… or one like it," Edward states as if it were a foregone conclusion. "They wouldn't know what was going on… and we could encourage them to think it was some new talent of yours made manifest, or something- one that was able to hide us all. Your parents would be _safe_ from the Volturi… as would Forks. Inside such wards, we could _all_ live free of their interference."

"…Until my _mother_ spontaneously walked outside of its protection, into their waiting arms!" Bella retorts heatedly. "Or _you_ did, trying to stop her! You _know_ she would, sooner or later- and she's _too_ far _away_. Edward, this doesn't change a thing! You've got to be _crazy_ if you think I'm going to sit around and watch you get yourself _killed_ over me!"

"But we have an alternative, Bella!" he pleads, wishfully. "You don't _have_ to change."

"Yes I do, and you _know_ it," Bella reprimands him stubbornly, but also softly. "You _know_ the other reasons why. _And you__'ve __promised_. I'm going to hold you to it!"

Edward sighs heavily, grateful for her unyielding choice- even if also reluctant. "So I have," he answers quietly. His lips twitch into a small smile as he hugs her closely and buries his face into her hair.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ** Thanks everyone for your wonderful reviews! I'm sorry I haven't replied to them individually, but I really _do_ appreciate every thought. Just so you know: We _will_ be seeing the rest of the Cullens before long... once this initial conversation is accomplished. At my current posting schedule, slow as it is, I am quickly approaching the end of what I have already completed of EM (which, incidentally, is _not_ yet to the point where I could shift into posting its sister story)... and so as much as any of us might like, I don't think it would be ultimately _helpful_ to post more frequently. I _am_ sorry about that, although I _can_ say that progress on this and/or one of its related (and equivalently exciting) tangential stories, has been consistent. I look forward to sharing them with you!

Anyway, please Enjoy! And thanks for reading and reviewing!


	18. Curious Questioning

* * * Curious Questioning * * *

"This isn't easy for you _at all_, is it," Albus observes their exchange comprehensively, commenting gently. "It seems- you've got an ultimatum hanging over your heads every bit as much as _Harry_ does." _The Volturi must have decreed it, _he realizes: _ She can't stay __human__._

Edward grimaces guiltily, unable to deny it. He nods silently.

'_Keep the secret,' _the headmaster remembers- _the one law of the vampire world. They __know__ that she knows about them… and thus she must have to be __killed__, or changed. __Neither__ of which he wants to do… and for very good reasons. _He sighs internally._ What a mess. Of course, even if it hadn't been for the Volturi- the nature of mortality would have forced their hand in this sooner or later. Theirs is not a very forgiving situation, _he considers ruefully.

"At least I _chose_ mine," Bella points out emphatically, wanting to distract Edward from his melancholy. "and _you're_ the one who finally gave me that opportunity… so stop feeling guilty about it," she scolds him. The corner of his lip twitches upward in some combination of appreciation, amusement, and admiration.

The Masens watch this interaction with both concern and pride, knowing now how significant the ramifications of such a choice are, yet- given the situation- unable to really add anything to it, one way or the other.

_That's a valuable attitude for her to have, _Albus muses. _It's knowledgeable choices like that, that can truly make all the difference. More power to you, _he internally salutes._ Harry __will need__ us__ to give him that same opportunity, if he is to be successful. N__o matter how unhappy his ultimatum must be__ in the end, he will have to be able to __make__ that choice. _

Returning to the initial direction of the conversation, Albus' next question is full of raging curiosity. "How is it that you managed to fend off the dementor's attack?" he probes. _A dementor's presence__ is __so__ emotionally__ debilitating__; without a patronus- I'd really like to know how he didn't buckle under it!_

Edward smiles slightly, considering. "There was no other choice," he responds straightforwardly. "I don't have the luxury of being able to fall _unconscious_, such as you do…" the others' thoughts are startled with surprise at this admission, "and there is no _way_ that I would stand aside for something like that." He pauses thoughtfully, before continuing. "I suppose, to me…" He strokes Bella's cheek gently, eyes and voice soft, "you could say that Bella is like a _phoenix_ in more ways than we knew." His gaze locks onto hers, tenderly, as she looks back at him. "Just as with the phoenix… the song of her heart brings courage to the weary. Being able to _hear_ it was enough for me."

Bella blushes in embarrassed pleasure at his romantic description.

The Masens are touched by his loving display; Elizabeth has tears of happiness now shining in her eyes.

Albus is fascinated. _He has a patronus of sorts after all__! This is __so__ intriguing!_

Edward chuckles.

"How was it that you managed to learn so _much_ from them, in so little time?" Albus inquires next, his expression full of interest.

Edward exhales lightly in humor, recognizing another tidbit of information that will undoubtedly be interesting to the headmaster. "Well- in some ways, I suppose- we are not so dissimilar," he reveals. "As it turns out, each of our minds are, individually, as complex as theirs is, collectively. As such, we can share a lot of information in the blink of an eye, as well as handle a lot going on at once. I imagine that's how I am able to hear them without difficulty… To communicate with _one_ of them, is to communicate with them _all_. It's no different than hearing the mind of another vampire."

"Wow," Albus marvels. "Does she know you heard her thoughts?"

"She suspects, yes." Edward affirms. "She could feel it in my emotions that I knew."

"Is that why…? Did she _tell_ you her story?" the headmaster queries, surprised.

Edward's head cocks to the side with a contemplative grimace. "In a manner of speaking. The similarities in our emotions reminded her of it, and the fact that I seemed to be able to _hear_ her- spurred her on. She has been so long without any kind of outside communication, that she couldn't help herself. Under different circumstances, however, if it had been up to her- _I_ wouldn't have been her first choice."

"Why is that?" Albus asks, warily concerned and a little perplexed. _Edward has been nothing but __exemplary__ since he arrived__… and I'm sure his emotions would have reflected that._"Pardon my probing, but- doesn't she realize that you would be inclined to tell us her story, and allow us to _help_ her?"

Edward smiles, flattered by Albus' sincere and innocent- even if unspoken- vote of confidence. "Yes… or at least- she knows I _could_ do that. But, I'm a vampire; her experience gives her no reason to believe that I _would_. You see- she _knows_ her story contains information sensitive enough, that it could be very _damaging_ in the wrong hands. Catastrophic even- both for her _and_ the world around her- if it were used to cement her sentence eternally. Given what reputation the vampire community has naturally acquired, she believes I have a high capacity of doing exactly that.

"In addition- even and perhaps _especially_ when it comes to emotions of _love_: although she recognizes emotions to be inherently _honest_ expressions of a person's psychological state, she also knows that one's _motivations_ are nonetheless difficult to interpret accurately from them… without the proper mental context. Sophia _does_ believe that _Babylon_ loved her, once upon a time- before she was in any state to be able to confirm or disprove the emotion- and so, she honestly has no idea how to interpret those of _mine_." He sighs heavily. "In the end, after only such a brief interaction- she really doesn't know _me_ from…" he grimaces, "_Dracula_. She has no idea what I'll do with it." He frowns.

"It wouldn't exactly help to _tell_ her, either," Edward appends quietly in thoughtful frustration, heading off Albus' natural follow-up question. "A little, perhaps, but not significantly. Her hopes have been dashed for far too long, for her to be able to raise them frivolously. This is one of those cases where _actions_ will speak louder than words. Only time will tell."

Albus nods reluctantly, his countenance pained- wishing they could offer her more immediate support somehow, even if only at so meager a level. _But Edward is right. It wouldn't __mean__ anything__ to them__. And, it might__ actually__ hurt__ them__ more in the effort to communicate it safely. Patroni would have that kind of __an __effect. _He sighs, frustrated.

* * *

><p>With the prominent questions now taken care of, the underlying curiosity in regards to just what exactly Edward can <em>do<em> has returned to the forefront of the friendly headmaster's thoughts… and has crept into those of his parents as well. Over the last few hours they have _heard_ a lot about what his capabilities are, but truly _seen_ nothing of them- with the exception of his apparent mental awareness, of course. Even _those_ responses have been kept within the believable bounds of normality, for a well-informed person. At this point, their unspoken interest in being able to witness some of these supernatural abilities first-hand, is almost palpable.

Edward smiles to himself, appreciating the lighter topic. After all the stressfully morbid subjects they've been having to deal with, it might be nice to indulge their fascination- just a little bit. Something _creative_, rather than destructive, should do the trick; this room could be a _fantastic_ resource to that end. Naturally, Albus also hopes for something that would inspire the magic between the two of them, to come forth. That _would_ be an intriguing outcome, if he can manage it. Perhaps he knows just the thing… one that they might _all_ enjoy. It'd provide a good exhibition, at any rate.

"Come to think of it, while we're on the subject of show and tell…" he begins, adjusting himself on the couch so that he can set Bella back down upon it, "I suppose it's time for a demonstration." He looks into her curious brown eyes, and smiles at her interest. "They're all quite interested to see for themselves what I can do."

"Just be careful not to scare the bejeebies out of them in the process," Bella advises wryly, obviously remembering her own memorable initiation.

Edward winks at her, amused.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thank you, once again, for your wonderful reviews, favorites, and alerts! They have already helped me to become more open with my after-chapter comments, when occasionally I have more insight to offer than will come out in the story. To this end, and periodically as the need for content clarification comes to my attention, a few minor updates have been made to previous chapters.

Thanks for reading!


	19. Masterpiece

* * * Masterpiece * * *

As Edward turns to face the room then stands with uncommon grace, everyone's demeanors become more alert with interest, each of them eager to see what he will think to show them.

On the other side of the room, yet still within comfortable sight of everyone, a gigantic rectangular cube of ice suddenly appears- having just been provided by the Room of Requirement in response to Edward's unspoken request. The imposing crystalline block appears to be generously encircled by a thin line of magic- largely invisible to the naked eye except for the white puffs of water vapor that seem to form at its outer edges then seep along the floor until they are dissipated into the surrounding atmosphere. It must be very _cold_ in there. A few strategically placed mirrors ensure that every side of the monolith will be viewable by everyone.

Edward walks right up to and through the temperature line, paying it no mind, until he comes to a stop next to the solid cube, facing everyone. The clear ice is taller than him by a few inches, and longer than him by a few more. "The temperature in here is a balmy 24 degrees Fahrenheit," he explains, to his parents' surprise, "so if at any time you'll wish to get a better view… _please_ keep this in mind and stay on the other side of the line." He looks pointedly at Bella, dressed as she is in her Forks summer clothing- and she rolls her eyes, hiding a smile. His lip twitches with an answering one of his own. Casually taking a handful out of the solid block of ice and crushing it easily between his fingers, he addresses his audience: "As you can see, I won't be needing much in the way of tools." He tosses the tiny fragments onto the floor beside him.

With the introductions now out of the way, Edward sets to work. Starting out slowly, so that they all have a chance to see what he is actually doing, he turns toward the fist-shaped hole he has already gouged and begins systematically crushing handfuls of ice directly alongside it- in such a way as to define a series of smaller blocks that will eventually be separated from the whole. Discarded fragments of ice get tossed neatly into the same area of the floor, and a pile quickly starts to form. His speed gradually but quickly increases until he is just a blur of motion before them.

Over the next five minutes, his audience watches in utter fascination as he flits around and occasionally above the block- freeing smaller chunks of varying shapes and sizes, which he stacks carefully on empty sections of the cold floor surrounding him. Many of them are very long and thin, one of them is as big as a small cabinet or bench, and most of the rest are small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. Across the floor from those, the discard pile also grows quickly- only to periodically disappear into nothingness whenever it becomes high enough to challenge their vision of his efforts, or spreads wide enough to get underfoot. He must have the Room of Requirement reabsorbing it or something.

As all of this has been happening, the original block has begun to take shape. A thick horizontal section across the center of the sculpture remains almost completely untouched, as does a semi-vertical piece almost as large that raises up from one side of it and rests diagonally upon a wide supporting column. A section of the underside has been hollowed out between four massive supporting columns, and the footprint of the whole block has taken on a slightly more triangular shape.

With an amazed gasp, complete with a hand brought lightly to her mouth, Bella finally recognizes what he is creating. It's a grand _piano_- perhaps the same size and dimensions as the one he has at home- only made of _ice_. Though it is still very rough around the edges as of yet, all the main parts are there… and there are enough pieces collected along the side to suggest that he has a very intricate version of it in mind to create. Her excitement and wonder increase tenfold at this discovery, and she can't but wait at the edge of her seat, nearly bouncing with eagerness, as it now begins to take on a more refined shape.

At this point, Edward has stopped collecting any more blocks from the larger form- and his focus has shifted instead towards tidying up the rough appearance of the main structure. As he moves in blurry motion around the chunky form, painstakingly leaving smooth and well-defined surfaces in his wake, the piano starts taking on a more recognizable appearance… ultimately eliciting pleasured gasps first from Elizabeth Masen, and then almost simultaneously from Albus and Edward Masen as they fully realize the profound and delicate nature of what he is creating.

The feel of the room becomes almost reverent from then on, as each person watches with absolute wonder and a deep respect for the miracle taking place in front of them. The only sounds in the room- audible to _human_ ears, that is- are the continuous crushing and scraping noises that herald the completion of another beautiful new section of its magnificent form, with every second that passes.

* * *

><p>Utilizing near-invisible magical support wherever needed, so as to be able to carve the ice piano to the very same specifications as his top-notch wooden instrument back home, Edward proceeds to carve out the piano's basic, hollow form- keeping a careful eye out for every precise detail. Even the working hinges are reasonably easy to recreate- by simply carving out the lid in a slightly offset position before shifting it to where it can be secured by tiny pieces of ice hardware. A few fine-detailing tools, provided by the room, make even the fine corners and seams of a normal piano simple to reproduce.<p>

In place of the usual brand name logo on the front of the case, Edward delicately carves out his own signature image of choice: a small but intricate relief of a bird- which appears to be neither a swan nor a phoenix, and yet is indicative of both of them. No creation of his hands would ever be complete without the representation of Bella in such a central place of honor.

Underneath the main body of the instrument, he ensures that the 4 massive supporting columns are suitably supplemented with magical bracing before carving out the immobile feet and pedal case of the structure. Through the perspectives of his audience, Edward can tell the piano has already taken on the appearance of a truly gorgeous crystal instrument- even though most of the workings have yet to be installed, and it couldn't hold itself up on its own. The largest of the smaller blocks quickly becomes a matching bench for it as approximately ten minutes have gone by. Now- for the most important part.

Shifting his attention to the mass of smaller blocks set alongside the empty instrument, he sets to work shaping each one of them into any of the various working pieces that form the action, pedals, and strings of the instrument. Although without magical enhancement he will obviously be unable to _play_ any music upon it, let alone test the action once he has it all put together, the hope remains that _something_ might eventually be done that will allow all these elements to be put to good use. It wouldn't truly be a _piano_ without all these parts in working order.

Once Edward finishes up shaping and installing the key and pedal action, the strings are the last thing remaining to complete. Obviously the ice medium won't allow them to be conventionally tunable (any more than they'll be actually _playable_)- but they _will_ look as if they are. Handling the long, thin blocks of ice with utmost care- and the benefit of magical reinforcement in order to thoroughly support their lengths as he does so- Edward carefully shapes each one into a truly delicate thread of ice and sets it in place within the crystalline body of the piano.

Presently having finished his creation, Edward steps back humanly once again to look it over and ache for the opportunity to play it- that the ice medium simply won't allow. He cannot test its workings, lest they shatter on impact… although he knows that if it were up to the workmanship of the instrument- it would be endowed with a truly beautiful tone. He sighs inwardly.

His audience is eagerly perched at the edge of their seats, marveling at the undeniably fantastic yet unassuming show of power he has just given them. After all, it has only been fifteen minutes since this was a pristine block of ice. Bella smiles widely up at him as his eyes and grin finally meet hers- and, understanding now that his delicate masterpiece has been completed, she stands up to quickly but carefully tip-toe over to hug him in her excitement.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, alerts, and favorites! This has been exciting! And, I hope you've enjoyed this fun interlude as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)


	20. Harmony

* * * Harmony * * *

As Bella walks over to him, the originally generous temperature line surrounding the piano visibly shrinks until it just barely clears the outline of the magnificent sculpture- in the process placing Edward into the warmth of the main room so that Bella won't have to receive a chill while meeting him, any more than is necessary.

He opens his arms to receive her with a welcoming smile, and she snuggles into them- hugging him tightly before turning in his arms to observe his masterpiece with wonder from this better vantage point. "It's so beautiful," she whispers in awe, afraid to speak any louder in case the vibrations of her voice could cause the strings to break, "…and so _fragile_," she observes quietly, marveling at the painstakingly intricate detail of the magnificent instrument. Bella is clearly afraid to go nearer to admire it, even though she wants to desperately. "It looks like it would break if I breathed on it." Her voice is mournful.

"It _is_ very fragile," Edward acknowledges. "So much so, that it wouldn't have held up even this long if it didn't have the benefit of invisible magical support. However," he caresses her cheek lovingly, "it _does_ have that benefit," he reassures her encouragingly, looking into her eyes as he does so. "…and I'd much rather you be able to _enjoy_ it, than avoid it. Don't be afraid," he soothes when she hesitates. "Even if something in it were to break- it could all be magically repaired with a simple spell. Besides…" he smiles crookedly, "it's not as if I couldn't ever make another," he points out. Though he surely wouldn't _prefer_ the necessity of that scenario, his low voice is soft and serious- and his motions invite her forward.

Turning back to look at him instead, she asks quietly, "Was that _very_ hard to do?" Even if he would be able to remake it with ease, she can't stand the idea of watching this beautiful instrument meet a quick and untimely end… and she is sure parts of it could shatter at _any_ moment. His creation is just so _perfect_; it would hurt to see that happen. She wishes that it were possible for him to be able to _play_ it.

Mysteriously behind her, a subtle blue glow suddenly emanates from the crystalline instrument, then slowly begins to dissipate as their muted conversation continues.

"Not really," he smiles gently, eyes suddenly twinkling with excitement. Tenderly, he lifts her chin with his fingers in order to meet her gaze adoringly. "After all, you've given me a lot of practice."

"I'm not _that_ fragile," she scoffs in a whisper.

"On the contrary, I find you to be even _more_ so." His quiet voice is serious as he looks at her pointedly. Her expression is almost scandalized. "Ice is _replaceable_, Bella." He says by way of explanation.

"But that doesn't make me _fragile_," she insists quietly. "It's not as if I'm likely to _break_ if someone so much as _breathes_ on me the wrong way!"

"Fair enough," Edward replies evenly, "but answer me this: What is it that marks a thing as fragile? How easily it breaks? Or, how hard the one handling it has to work to make sure that it doesn't?"

Bella is stumped at that question, ultimately realizing that by his use of the second definition… she truly _is_ more fragile to him. With a frown, she turns back to look at the magnificent instrument- her expression morphing into a look of awed worry. "Why is it glowing?" she wonders. "Did something break already?" she asks, suddenly turning to Dumbledore with a distraught voice full of concern, suspecting that he must have already had to perform magic to repair it.

"On the contrary," Albus smiles at her with a twinkle in his eye as he approaches them from across the room. "I rather suspect the opposite. This glow _does_ indicate that some kind of magic has been performed upon it… but _not_ by _me_. It is my belief, that in fact- it must have been something done by the two of _you_."

While the headmaster has been walking toward them, Edward's arms have surreptitiously encircled her waist from behind, such that the anticipatory chuckle in his breath is now tickling her ear. Bella's eyes widen in surprise at Albus' conclusion, and with a gasp- she turns her head slightly to address Edward standing closely behind her. "What did we just do?" she whispers.

"I'm not sure," he answers softly, holding her gently against him and watching with intent interest as Albus begins to study the magic contained within the piano in front of him.

After a short moment, Dumbledore turns to regard them again, seeming considerably impressed. "The charms performed on this piano appear to have rendered it _unbreakable_, _permanently frozen_, and able to _sound _and_ play _as a normal piano would… although- _only_ for someone who is _pure of heart_," he marvels. "This is _not__ simple_ magic."

Edward is grinning with hopeful excitement at the prospect of truly being able to play the beautiful instrument after all. At the mention of the pure-of-heart stipulation, however- a distinction Bella has to believe he would exemplify, or else it wouldn't have been there at all- he turns to regard her with an exasperated expression full of surprised wonder, his teasing tone full of suspicious curiosity. "Are you trying to make a statement?"

"Maybe," Bella smiles coyly, suppressing a giggle as she turns around in his arms and winds her arms around his waist. "And if I am, what are _you_ going to do about it?" she challenges, looking up at him with eyes that are brimming with excitement.

"I suppose I should hear you out," he murmurs- smiling happily as his forehead rests gently upon hers. "Thank you, Bella," he fervently praises, his eyes glowing with wonder and appreciation.

She scoffs lightly at his compliment, then raises up on her toes to offer him a quick but fervent kiss. "It's not as if I really _did_ anything," she smiles back eagerly. "But, it's my pleasure in any case."

With a heart-stoppingly adoring smile, Edward separates from her and once again ventures inside the temperature line to stand between the piano and its bench. Hovering his hands almost timidly over the keyboard, half expecting the ice strings to break with any movement- he gulps down his nervousness and finally presses down on the first key. Holding that first cautious note barely a fraction of a second longer than the rest, he promptly continues running a luscious scale up the length of the unbroken piano- his sudden grin widening with the delight of every motion.

"Oh, _Wow_!" he reverently exclaims, having now heard the exceptional beauty of its angelic tone- which even the best instruments currently available couldn't hope to rival. Edward looks up to meet Bella's gaze with awe and excitement shining in his eyes. All at once, the temperature line disappears from around the piano, along with _every_ other trace of magical support the room had been providing for it, and he quickly positions a small quilt- appearing suddenly warm in his hands- over one side of the piano bench. Immediately, he grabs Bella's hand and gently pulls her over to sit next to him, on top of the heated comforter, before launching into playing the very first song ever to be heard upon it: her lullaby.

She nearly swoons at the fervid intensity of the moment.

* * *

><p>As if it was a thing truly divine, the pure tone of the instrument resonates beyond the walls of their sanctuary and then reverberates throughout the sleepy castle- creating an acoustical effect so enchanting, that nearly all of its unconscious dreamers or otherwise restless occupants pause to listen with awe to the most beautiful music they've ever heard. No sound so sublime has ever graced these halls before, and many drowsy minds wonder what could have brought about such a delightful audible experience. Where is it coming from? What instrument is this? Who is playing it?<p>

Somewhere off in the castle, a restless Harry recognizes the soothing sound to be similar in feel to the song of the phoenix… which call he's heard only once before, deep beneath the earth in the Chamber of Secrets, but was touched by so deeply that he would always remember it. This music has a different quality to it, however- more instrumental, he supposes… being as it's composed of the complex harmonies of multiple voices together, rather than the single, clear notes of only one. _It's just as touching, though. And relaxing; I might be able to sleep now.  
><em>

A few rooms over, a recently awakened Hermione is nearly in tears over the exceptional beauty of the music. _It's like listening to a choir of angels, _she praises soulfully, drowsily pleased to be among the witnesses of such an extraordinary serenade._ Too bad I never learned how to play the piano, _she suddenly recognizes the sonorous medium_. Come to think of it, why would there be a piano in Hogwarts? It's a muggle instrument._

Within the Room of Requirement, everyone remains impeccably silent while listening to Edward masterfully perform the inspiring melody full of hope, love, and longing. An expression of reverence is etched on all their faces. The sacred tones are heavenly. Nobody is willing to stir from their position until after the music comes to an end, and the residual vibrations have finally died away.

Edward is the first to shift his position on the bench, in order to tenderly wipe away the salty moisture on Bella's face, as he looks into those beautiful eyes that are brimming with tears of happiness. "I have _never_ heard a more beautiful tone, Bella… on _any_ instrument, _anywhere_." His voice is soft and serious, and his gaze is gloriously intense. Drawn together by the moment, their lips meet and their hands caress each other's faces with a lovingly tender passion. "Thank you, Bella," Edward finishes, his liquid eyes full of love, sincere gratitude, and awe. There is no denying the utter devotion in his voice.

Elizabeth & Edward Sr. are overwhelmingly stunned by the beauty of the moment: the otherworldly instrument of Edward's creation, the wonder of its magical transformation, the profoundly beautiful music that has come forth from his fingertips, the magical majesty of its tone, the awed excitement in his face, and the undeniably loving embrace of their son and future daughter-in-law. It's _absolutely_ more than they ever thought they could hope to see again, and _so much_ in line with what they truly wanted for him to have. Their smiles are radiant as they hold each other closer and watch with a serenely happy awe of their own.

Standing just on the fringes of the spotlight, close enough to have observed the entire exhibition front-and-center, Albus' twinkling eyes are moist with feeling. It's already the stuff of fairy tales, to have been able to see the two of them together- a vampire with a human. And then to witness how much Edward appreciates the value of _music_- has been truly incredible. But _this_- is _so_ much more. Legendary. Exemplary. Holy. The soul-touching power contained within _every note_ sounded from this instrument stands as a supreme testament to the magical dynamic existing between them… being as the effect of _any_ magic can never exceed the power of its _origin_. The effect is _tremendous_; truly reminiscent of a _perfect love_. There simply aren't words to express the delightful majesty of the moment.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Knowing for himself how truly he loves his fiancé, I'm rather inclined to believe that Edward would have a _much_ easier time acknowledging the purity of his _heart_, than accepting the sanctity of his _soul_. Thanks for all your wonderful comments and support!


	21. Departure

* * * Departure * * *

Now that the understanding between everyone involved has finally reached a truly stable point, Edward speaks up to inform everyone that it's time for them to go home. As fascinating as everything has really been – the activities of the day, along with the resulting conversations, have already kept the English inhabitants up well into their night. As well, on the American side of things – Edward and Bella have now been away long enough that Charlie will have already gotten home from work, and their absence will have been noticed. Even while Alice is sure to have headed off any problems that that may have caused, the fact remains that they really can't afford to stick around any longer.

Suddenly finding himself fighting a yawn at the reminder of how late it has become, with a touch of humor Albus amenably moves the conversation into an explanation of the methodology of apparation, in order to assist the visiting couple in the hopeful endeavor of using their own magic to return home.

The basic theory seems simple enough: _know_ you can do it (or, at the very least, that it is possible), and have a clear picture in your head of where you want to go (or, what you want to accomplish). It's worked for them already – twice. Never having actually _tried_ to use magic before, however, (let alone magic at such an advanced level right off the bat) Bella feels self-consciously unsure of the prospect. After all, all it would take is for _one little thing_ to go wrong, and even _Edward_ could end up vulnerably split into pieces between two different locations. How can she possibly pursue this?

Edward is more confident. Of course… it helps that he has had ample opportunity to witness the _conscious_ performance of magic first-hand through the minds of so many around him. But more than that: he has complete faith in her _subconscious_ magical aptitude. The events of this evening have proven _that_ to him beyond any doubt, and it is a complete thrill to be able to intrinsically share in this wonderful phenomenon with her. With a little bit of practice – and patience – it will naturally develop into a more conscious capability. In the meantime, it will be alright if he can just help her to relax.

By the end of Albus' instructive discourse, Edward and Bella have already moved into a more transport-ready position: he standing behind her with his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. Her muscles are tense with discomfort under the pressure of the situation, and his thumbs are softly rubbing against the base of her neck in small, soothing circles. Teasing lightly, in order to verbally soften the tension, he suggests: "You know, you could always just tap your shoes together three times and recite 'There's no place like home.'"

Bella laughs nervously, though the tightness in her muscles reduces somewhat.

"I bet it would work," he encourages seriously. His certitude regarding the curiously appropriate and comically familiar – even if only fictional – literature reference tickles the interest of everyone else in the room.

"Maybe," she dubiously admits. "But if I did that, we might end up in Kansas. Emmett would die laughing." Her sarcastic tone only partially hides the irrational terror underlying her demeanor.

_Stage fright, _everyone recognizes, with various degrees of understanding. The Masens, unlike Albus, have never had occasion to learn magic such as this… and even for him – it was never all at once. They know it must be overwhelming for her.

Behind her, Edward snickers unreservedly, expertly diverting her attention. "It wouldn't be the first time." His tone is full of humor.

Temporarily distracted from her fears, Bella looks at him curiously – the natural question clearly in her eyes. _His_ eyes are sparkling with amusement.

"Not very long after Alice & Jasper joined up with us-" he explains artfully, "when the extent of Jasper's talent was still largely undefined – Emmett challenged Jasper to a duel against his powers. The bet was that he could play _dead_ through every emotion Jasper could throw at him from a distance." Edward's keen eyes watch for her reaction with interest, as his fingers continue their gentle massage.

"As it turned out, he was able to manage rather admirably through the first volley… even maintaining his pose through the spike of _fear_ Jasper aimed his way, by recalling the fact that _playing dead_ is the proper human reaction to a fearsome grizzly attack – assuming one wants to live through it." He smiles wryly, "Emmett, of all people, would think of that."

"During the second volley, however – all it took was a surge of _passion_ to get him thinking about _Rosalie_…" Edward pointedly enunciates her name, "in such a way as to trigger a _certain_… characteristically _un-corpse-like_ involuntary reaction…" his eyebrow raises suggestively as he amusedly recalls the utter defenselessness of Emmett's thoughts at the time, "and make it all too easy for Jasper to channel our humor to his advantage. Emmett tried _so_ hard to keep a straight face… but in the end – we all could have _sworn_ he died laughing." Edward chuckles at the memory.

Bella giggles, the stress of her earlier apprehension alleviated somewhat amidst the sound of everyone's respectably muffled laughter. "That sounds like Emmett."

Edward smiles at the sound of her humor, and the softer feel of her muscles. "Feeling better?" he asks gently, after a moment.

"Yes, thank you." Bella's nervous voice is appreciative. "Your fingers have been every bit as good to me as your voice is. I think you've just about turned me into a puddle."

His smile widens, and his hands move to gently circle around the front of her waist. "It will be alright," he soothingly reassures her.

"Do you really think so?" Bella worries, glancing up and back at him.

"I know so," Edward regards her encouragingly, his voice sure in her ear. "Subconsciously, you have _already_ gotten the nature of magic all figured out... so much so that you have been able to perform it perfectly, _twice_, by conscious accident. Since I _know_ that you couldn't consciously wish for any of us to be _endangered_," his gaze is full of adoring admiration, "there's no chance of a problem." He shrugs in conclusion, and his smile is thoroughly untroubled.

Bella feels encouraged. Elizabeth beams at them.

* * *

><p>Ultimately, it is determined that Albus and Fawkes will travel to Forks alongside the returning couple – by immediately following in the wake of their apparation signature, as Fawkes is capable of doing. This is not only so that Albus will be able to get a feel for the unfamiliar location, in order to make such a long-distance apparation possible in the future, but also in order to facilitate believable explanations and friendly introductions should anyone happen to be waiting to meet them there (which is possible, given that Alice is a <em>seer<em>). Most importantly, however, it will allow him to confirm that the two of them have been able to arrive without any complications.

As a precaution, in order to head off any of his family members' potential initial reactions to an unfamiliar and dreaded threat of exposure, Edward advises Albus carefully: "Don't let on that you _know_ what we are just yet, and you should be fine. This is _important_." Then, by way of explanation, he adds: "Not everyone responds well to such surprises."

As Albus graciously acknowledges the instructive warning, Bella recognizes Rosalie's attitude from her own experiences, and nods silently in agreement.

Now, the only thing remaining is to identify the location, safely isolated away from both of their homes, in which to inconspicuously appear. "So… the meadow?" Edward suggests helpfully.

Bella nods. "The meadow," she agrees with conviction.

Immediately, they disapparate with a pop.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thank you, everyone, for your wonderful favorites and reviews! It's fantastic to hear of your enjoyment. Thank you!


	22. Homecoming

* * * Homecoming * * *

As the crack of apparation resounds throughout the beautifully familiar though currently overcast meadow, Bella's balance is maintained only because of Edward's steady arms still wrapped around her. For an uncomfortable moment, her head swims between bouts of dizziness and nearly overwhelming nausea, as if it can't decide which one to settle on. "I _much_ prefer _running_ over _this_," she mumbles, when the swirling disorientation has finally receded enough to focus on the scenery around them.

Edward chuckles. Next to them, Albus alertly takes in the delightful setting with a pleased interest while Fawkes settles lightly onto his shoulder.

From out of the trees nearby, Alice emerges- her face a picture of fascinated puzzlement even as she skips out to them with an upbeat energy. "Edward! Bella! _Finally._ Where have you been?" she queries seriously. Though the naive style of her greeting is only for show in the presence of their unfamiliar companion, the lingering worry and curiosity in her voice is real. Apparently, there has been a strange haze surrounding wherever they have been all afternoon- blocking out every detail around the two of them as if they were part of a mirage- and she hasn't been able to _see _anything about them until just a few minutes ago. Though it's a much better effect than what inevitably happens when the _wolves_ are involved… and she's grateful to have still been able to know that they were… _somewhere_… the lack of clarity has been driving her nuts. "We had to tell Charlie you ran into car troubles and weren't going to make it home in time for dinner," she informs them easily. _Edward- __Bella's truck's at the house__, in keeping with our story__._

He nods in grateful appreciation while her gaze ranges inquisitively over Albus and Fawkes. "Something tells me he wouldn't _believe_ what you've been up to," she finishes, looking back at her brother and almost-sister with an eyebrow raised expectantly. _After all, __l__iterally__ appearing out of thin air… isn't something most people __do__ every day. And the smell of that bird..? It's like… __living__ fire__! Not at all appealing; it'd be like biting into a raging inferno! But still, totally fascinating. I've never smelled anything like it before! _She pauses to search for a visual, which isn't forthcoming. _It's not going to attack us, is it? Of course not- or you wouldn't have brought them here. But I can't __see__ anything about it! Where did it come from? How did you run across it? _And with that, her thoughts return to her original question. _Where__ in the __world__ have you __been__?_

Bella chuckles nervously.

"Not likely," Edward confirms her vocalized assessment with a wry smile. He then proceeds to introduce to his sister the amiable, even if particularly long-bearded and uncommonly attired, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry… clearly proving her point.

Greeting the small vampire with warm fascination, Albus is pleased to be able to put such a friendly face to the third name that had popped up in his research. During their brief but engaging interaction, it strikes him even more distinctly- the unconscious appeal with which both vampires naturally present themselves… and the instinctual, even if subtle, aura of danger that they both clearly have in common. It's a wonder that they don't take undue advantage of it.

Alice is similarly pleased to greet the curiously unusual and refreshingly polite English gentleman, and is grateful that his presence- and that of his _phoenix_- does not seem to be interfering with any upcoming views of her _family_ this evening. However, just as what happens with the wolves- it seems that Fawkes is unsettlingly _blank_ to her visions… and, perhaps consequently, her uncommonly narrow view of the headmaster's future has an edge of static to it. As they exchange pleasantries, she can only see as far as the immediate outcome of their conversation… before his future _totally_ blanks out. _Oh, bother!_

Among the things she _can_ tell, is that their two visitors from the U.K. aren't actually going to stick around for very long. _It __is__ past 2am in England, after all._As well, it appears that Edward and Bella already are planning to see more of them at a later date. When she looks into this possibility, she is concerned to mentally witness them purposefully _disappear_ into thin air at some future point in time- much like she saw them _arrive _in the meadow just now- only to presumably arrive at some distant mirage of a place she can't seem to make out. _It's an uncomfortable feeling, not seeing! I'm worried about you._

If it weren't for the fact that she _knows_ better by now- she'd have been worried for the old wizard's safety, too. _More blank futures__! G__rumble, grumble__. _But instead, all she can do is hide her agitation with expert grace. It wouldn't be prudent to let their human visitor know about her preternatural vision problems.

Thus, it is with shock that she sees Edward unreservedly voicing the inevitable question, just before he does. "So… you haven't been able to _see_ us, all afternoon then?"

Alice glances quickly at Albus, noting through vision that this line of conversation will be of no surprise to him- since seers are a familiar aspect of the wizarding world- and that he will have insight to offer if she continues it. "No," she responds slowly, looking inquisitively back toward Edward's mindful face and Bella's shocked one, "It's like you've both been surrounded by some sort of… _force field_, or something… which muddles my picture so much that I can't tell what's going on. It has all been _really_ annoying." Irritation leaks into her tone at the end.

_First the __wolves__, then an esoteric __school__ of some sort, and now a __bird__ that interferes with my visions! __How many kinds of fantastical new __entities__ are you going to end up consorting with? (Not that it really matters.) And __w__hy__ can't I __see__ them? (__That__ matters!)_

"So I've noticed," Edward smiles, amused at her irritation. The strength of her vexation is beginning to parallel that of his _own_ inability to hear _Bella's_ thoughts- which intense and singular frustration has greatly overshadowed _every one_ of the initially numerous and always discomfiting occasions wherein he'd been unable to decipher the musings of someone who was thinking in a language he didn't know. At the time, never realizing just how _much_ of an irritant that could prove to be for one who has to experience it _constantly_, no one else in his family had been able to truly relate. Of course, that had all happened before _she_ ever came around- and she'd had her _own_ newborn talent growing pains to work through that they could belatedly commiserate about- but still… _b__efore __all this-__ she's never had a comparable __exception__. _His lips twitch mischievously. _There's something to be said for not being so alone in that anymore._ Alice silently glares at him, her mouth turned down into a playful grimace. He chuckles briefly, but then stops to acknowledge the favor she's done for them by covering their tracks. "Thank you, Alice," he intones sincerely.

Albus is fascinated by the genuinely loving sibling interaction between them. If he hadn't seen as much and more already in regards to the unconventional couple standing beside him, he would have never imagined that such interactions could be the norm among members of such a turbulent species. It is _marvelous_. He also finds it interesting to note that the lack of clarity in Alice's vision _could_, potentially, be an effect of the magical muggle-wards surrounding Hogwarts… that is, _if_ she truly hadn't been inclined to believe in magic. The color of her eyes, after all (as was expected), suggests that the wards against _vampires_ would be having no effect.

_Surprising though it is in light of what they __are__ (which existence undoubtedly defies the laws of conventional science) and evidently can __do__ (magic __would__ have seemed to be the obvious explanation for that, wouldn't it?), _Dumbledore muses,_ the potential __is__ there__ for them to have never linked their continuance with magic- being that they __have__ been muggles since birth. I wonder… __could__ that also be an unwitting outshoot of having been __unwilling__ to accept the dark nature of their mystical heritage? I suppose,_ he tries to imagine looking at it from their perspective…_if __my__ radically new subconscious experience with __magic__ had suddenly been synonymous with '__evil__', __I__ wouldn't have been inclined to embrace the idea either. __ Hmmm…_he ponders, fascinated._ Muggle__ magical creatures. Who would have thought?_

As soon as the dynamically aged wizard mentions this possible explanation to Alice, she goes into a brief trance… after which her outlook seems to have considerably brightened. "I'll be able to see through it, after Edward explains everything to us this evening!" she declares with excitement. "This is going to be _good_. Thank you!" she trills to the headmaster sincerely, beaming. "Bella," she enthusiastically moves right along, turning to face her now, "Esme would be _thrilled_ to order in for you if you'd like to eat over at our place." She's obviously interested to get a move on as quickly as possible and hear what it is they have to tell.

With a small smile of amusement, Bella doesn't miss her not-so-subtle hint. "Sure, Alice," she laughs.

With a final wink and a peck on the cheek, Alice pulls out her cell phone and humanly jogs out of the meadow towards home. "See you there, then!" she calls happily, just before disappearing from sight.

Bella shakes her head in residual amusement. Albus is once again impressed by the nearly-familial bond that exists between these members of such instinctually discordant species.

"It looks like we have quite a story to tell everyone," Edward summarizes the situation in an obvious understatement, regaining her attention in the process. "Are you sure you're up to it?" he queries Bella teasingly, but also seriously. "It's been a long day."

"What! And miss out on the whole thing?" she looks at him in disbelief. "Your family's going to be a riot! You're _not_ telling it without me."

Edward sighs, his lips twitching up wryly as his head shakes minutely in amazement. Her answer was just as he anticipated- though, as with many things, not what he imagines would have been most wise for her. "Alright," he concedes respectfully.

After finalizing their plans to meet up again over the upcoming weekend, in order to affably pursue their magical discoveries together along with any of the others who may by then wish to participate, the two pairs finally part ways- Albus and Fawkes disappearing in a sudden flash of flame as Edward darts off with Bella into the surrounding forest.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Enjoy! And thanks for reviewing!


	23. Devil in the Details

* * * Devil in the Details * * *

As expected, it doesn't take long before the evening's initially unflustered recount turns into quite the flurry of fascinated discovery, inquiry, alarm, devastation, and humorous observation.

Right from the beginning, the Cullens are riveted by Edward's engaging description of the unfamiliar magical environment. If the myriad of unique species living within Hogwarts' forest and lake are truly any indication, not to even _mention_ the trace scents of many _more_ such unidentified beings that generously pepper the castle and grounds, it would appear that there is no longer reason to doubt whether _any_ given fanciful creature of legend just might not be so mythical after all. The possibilities are _endless_. As well, his enlightening account of all manner of magical _obstacles_- most of which had constituted the primary challenge of this phase of the Tournament which they'd had occasion to witness- leads to an explanation of some of the more fascinating possibilities of cultivated magical aptitude.

One of these intriguing developments apparently manifests in the ability some wizards have to transform into an animal form that uniquely suits them. "They're called _animagi_," he explains, "and in their sense-enhanced form retain _all_ of their intelligent capacity _as well as_ smell like a _humanized _version of the animal they are… _both_ things to be wary of." Edward pauses briefly, as the significance of those simple facts sinks in. Numerous eyes widen with the chilling certainty of how awful it would be to accidentally run across a transformed _animagus_ while on the _hunt_. _After all, w__ithout the benefit of __this war__ning, none of them would have known to recognize the significance of such a particularly __delectable__ scent- as far as __animal__ fragrances go- until it was too late… and the__ animal-camouflaged __wizard's__ human__ blood was flowing through unwitting vampire veins.__ Even now, knowing what they do, hunting in magically-occupied areas would be too much of a risk to take._

"During an unexpected confrontation on the grounds, we had occasion to catch the attention of one of them in his animal form-" Edward continues, "and his thoughts were quite informative to this end. Incidentally, he would have helped us out if he could have- he has no love for the dementors- though it was a very good thing we were _downwind_. His form is that of a large black _dog_, and there's no telling how much he would have recognized about us, if he had smelled me."

Gasps of cautious realization spread throughout the family at this dangerous yet captivating news, and Bella finally throws her hands up to either side of her head in martyred exasperation. "What is it with us and half-_canine_ magical creatures? That's _three_ different types we've learned about now… each of them always _half_ ready to help us out, and _half_ out to get us! My head is going to explode!" she complains.

_Three?_ Numerous thoughts wonder about what else Bella must have just discovered that would fit this description. _She hasn't learned about__ the __classic__ werewolves, has she?_ Edward nods discreetly. _Whoa. That's got to be a lot to process all at once._

Chuckles ensue around the room at her unusually dramatic outburst, and Edward strokes her hair with a gentle touch- his expressions manifesting both amusement and concern. "I don't suppose you want to know his name, then," he offers casually.

Bella groans at the ominously dangling carrot, now curious for the answer despite her exaggerated display. "Why, what is it?" she sighs.

"Sirius _Black_," Edward carefully reveals.

Bella's eyes widen. "You're kidding!"

"He's _not_ kidding," Jasper certifies.

"Any relation?" Emmett wonders.

"None that I can tell," Edward explains calmly, his eyes nonetheless sparkling with amusement as he watches Bella's reaction closely. "He comes from a well-established English wizarding family, and doesn't look the least bit Native-American. Still, it's a small world."

"This is unreal," Bella mutters.

* * *

><p>Later, once it comes out that Albus Dumbledore <em>knows<em> what they _are_, it is Jasper and Rosalie that remain the most vehemently desperate for the reassurance contained in Edward's continuing explanation. Even considering how kindly and well-meaning the goodly headmaster genuinely appears to be, he's clearly _not_ a prospective member of the family… and without such mitigating circumstances, the security risk he presents is grievously intolerable.

It throws them for a loop, somewhat then, when Edward gets far enough along in his account to point out that: if Dumbledore were to have been _killed_ at any point after realizing that Edward was a _vampire_, his animated portrait at Hogwarts- _as well as _many similar ones located throughout the wizarding world- would have still retained _all_ knowledge that he had accumulated thus far… yet without any incentive to keep their secret _quiet_… and thus- such an action would have served no purpose other than to _exacerbate_ the problem. Ultimately, the situation is _much_ more complex than it appears.

Tension mounts further when he announces that the likenesses of his long-lost parents _also_ happen to reside in one of these such portraits at the castle- _another__ security risk!_- and that he, in the end, chose to let them know exactly _why_ it was important that they keep his status and identity a secret. Everyone is shocked beyond belief at _this_ revelation, even as they are simultaneously thrilled for his good fortune- since by doing so he has made himself personally accountable for anything they could ultimately divulge. Even if he could have _known_ they were going to take the news as well as they did, and remain eternally devoted to his welfare, it was a dangerous risk to take.

From this illuminating expose', Bella realizes that the influence of _her_ opinions may have had more of a persuasive effect upon Edward, toward this end, than she would have guessed. Despite the potential drawback involved, she can't help but be secretly pleased; he was able to give himself the benefit of the doubt. Truly, his parents are such _neat _people; she's glad to have been able to meet them. As well, it's nice to know that there are kindred human spirits- somewhere in the world- who are in full support of the reality they live. Aside from this, however- and, in fact, perhaps _because_ of it- now it is all too easy to imagine what it must have been like for the _all_ of the Cullens- in the beginning- to stress over whether or not _she _would tell their secret. _'To be or not to be__'_, she sighs. It's a very hard line to walk.

Eventually though, after Edward describes his theory about what the phoenix is _capable_ of, were any vampire to ever attack the good headmaster, his previous discretion gains grudging approval from even the most difficult-opinioned. No one can deny that this potential and entirely unpredictable _threat_ would make _all_ the difference to the Volturi… not to mention what it now means for each of _them_… and _that_ fact locks the whole uncomfortable situation into a purely diplomatic operation. There is no _way_ they could gamble each others' lives like that.

Around the family circle, the relief is evident- in at least _one_ way. No one likes a moral dilemma. Not that the parameters of this _new_ development have made the situation any _easier_… But, all things considered, perhaps the choices Edward made regarding their exposure may have been the wisest options after all…

One final note on this subject, that Edward is pleased to leave them with- is that Albus' _thoughts_ are reassuring. "In offering to help us out," he explains, "the good headmaster has recognized that the choice is not actually _his_ to make- whether or not we will be able to learn and apply the magic of the wizarding world in the first place- but _rather_, whether or not by _aiding_ us in the effort, _he_ will have the opportunity to discover it _with_ us… and hopefully nurture a favorable relationship in the process. Ultimately, it is _this_ hope, esteemed for the good of _all_ mankind, which characterizes the motivation behind his actions. His is a brave and refreshing personality."

* * *

><p>One additional tidbit of particular interest, which becomes revealed in the process of describing the evident peculiarities of the wizarding world, involves the fact that a <em>biotic<em> species of vampire _does_ in fact exist, which is indigenous to the wizarding community. Members of this species are _not_ immortal, magical, _or_ particularly lethal, but they _do_ drink human blood and apparently display many of the cultural tendencies described by classic vampire myths. They _sleep_ in the daytime, are sensitive to crosses and holy water, _detest_ the smell of garlic, and reproduce biologically. They also have _fangs_.

_That's just crazy_, Emmett's simple thought summarizes all of their collective disbelief rather accurately._ I mean, really- h__ow__ can someone seriously be sensitive to __holy __water__?__!_ _So much for __all of these__ rumors having just been a ruse to fool the humans._

It is, truly, a shocking revelation. Besides the fact that this similarly blood-nourished species remains blissfully able to enjoy the key benefits of mortality that _they_ can only wish for (which fact triggers a briefly passionate but non-violently _frustrated_ outcry from Rosalie), it is a strange thing to accept that-within magical society- the everyday concerns of vampire interaction could easily come up as a topic of _normal_ conversation. No longer can it be assumed that any vampire-related observation, belief, or current event, must automatically have _any_thing to do with one of _them_. Contrarily, it is much more likely that it _wouldn't_. Such a thing feels almost _backwards_ to consider, having been a practical absolute in their lives for so long, and yet it's true: the classic vampire species _is_ a long-established component of magical society. It's a rather mind-boggling reality to embrace.

Thankfully, neither species looks particularly reminiscent of the other… so it is not likely they could be accidentally confused or exposed by association. _Biotic_ vampire irises are naturally dark as a general rule… but they have _never_ been gold- or red-toned, and they _don't_ change color. Rather, the _whites_ of their eyes have a tendency to become particularly bloodshot after a feeding. Instead of their skin tone appearing more white and _beautiful_ than the average human, their typical pale visage is somewhat more _gaunt_ and sickly. And finally, though they _do_ enjoy the genetic benefits of enhanced speed, strength, and sensitivity (to a degree much lower than _theirs_, but markedly greater than the average _human_), they are no match for a _wand_-wielding personage of average ability. _Magic_ will stop them in their tracks as easily as it does any _human_, and thus- it is very effective at restricting their movements. As a result, though wizards remain significantly _wary_ of- _and_ biased against- their species' presence within the community, they do not truly consider them a _threat_.

It is with irony that they realize all this could turn out to be rather _helpful_, in a way. _Because_ of the vampire-protections that exist in and around the wizarding world in relation to their biotic counterparts, and _have_ since _before_ their species was _discovered_, magical society does not believe that vampires such as _themselves_ can even enter _in_to their domain. (Hence they have been classed as _muggle_ predators, for all intents and purposes.) Therefore, were they to interact with the wizarding community in any significant capacity- _t__his_ is the preexisting awareness against which any suspicions of _their_ vampire nature would be compared. It's a favorable association.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I am sorry that this chapter has ended up posting a couple of days late, but I'm much happier now with the more recent additions I've made to it. Please enjoy! And thank you kindly for all your wonderful support!


	24. Shadows of the Trinity

* * * Shadows of the Trinity * * *

Every one of Edward's family members is astonished to learn about the two other species of immortal undead. Having imagined themselves to be the only kind out there- being as the other species don't apparently _exist_ outside of the magical world- the confirmation of others actually comes as quite a shock. What could this mean? Both of the other types were magically generated in their infancy, even if accidentally… so might this give any clues as to _their_ origins? Perhaps not, being as the wizarding world didn't actually _know_ about their species' existence until a millennia ago. Still, it explains how magical society has been able to learn about _them_, at _all_.

The idea of the _inferi_ is familiar, at least. Not so far from Hollywood's version of the classic zombie, they are no more than human _corpses_ that have been magically animated, preserved, and instinctually programmed in order to perform the bidding of whatever mastermind created them. By all accounts, there _is_ no residing consciousness involved- and thus, no moral ambiguity intrinsic to their interactions… or the extermination thereof, were that to be necessary. They would pose no threat to a vampire.

The danger they represent to _humans_, on the other hand, stems mostly from the fact that they can only be _created_ from _living_ beings. Inherent to their makeup is _usually_ the impulse to propagate more of their own… and even _magical_ humans cannot stand indefinitely against a host with unkillable persistence. (There is nothing about them a warding spell can be _based_ upon, and even wizards have to _sleep_!) People can become unwilling pawns of the _darkest_ magic, thereby- and as such, only the _worst_ caliber of wizards will deign to create them. The forces of one such as this are still currently at large in the wizarding world, which is why their society remains precariously- even if also rather ignorantly- poised on the brink of war. His very _name_ breeds as much fear among the masses, as any of _them_ would by species reputation. It's a very volatile atmosphere.

And that's only the half of it.

The dementors' story is significantly more complex to describe… and proves to be as devastating to tell the second time around, as it was the first. Only the company is different. By far it is the hardest of all upon Jasper, who ends up feeling burdened with the knowledge of just how deeply _her_ desolation reaches (through the window of Edward's and Bella's reminiscence)- even as he struggles to hold onto a sense of calm for the sake of every other person in the room. Each of the others is similarly weighed down by the horrific tragedy and hopeless despair of the story… and doesn't need to feel any _more_ of it, coming from _him_.

But _oh_, her _sorrow_. It is so deeply _powerful_ and undeniably _heart_felt, that truly- only another _immortal_ could even hope to comprehend it. And it feels all too _familiar_. Jasper's own despairing thoughts, from that time when he knew of no other way to live, carried a similar sense of desperate hopelessness- even if his recollection of the emotion has since been soothed by the reality of an improved lifestyle. _Emotions are funny like that- they'll be here today and gone tomorrow… while only the circumstances __attached__ to them __actually __get remembered. __Still, because they are e__ternally __honest__ and __current__ in their feedback… __truth__ is the one benefit __my__ gift __has __always__ provided. _

_Experientially, that fact has proven to be as much my greatest weakness, as it has been my greatest strength._ Indeed, for the ingrained sensitivities of his psyche- the feral _truth_ of his nature was too debilitating a thing for him to think about… though he believed he had no choice but to live it, day in and day out. Most of the time back then- it was _all_ he could _do_ just to keep the unfortunate memories of his violent existence, along with the feelings they provoked, buried within his consciousness… so that he could function. It was _exactly_ the torment he couldn't get _away_ from every time he fed.

_She__ doesn't __ever__ have that option. _And with that realization, the empathetic devastation he feels is overwhelming. _Being physically __incapable__ of hiding her feelings away from the world she interacts with, must likewise make her __unable__ to __ignore__ the effect she is having upon it __every__ moment of __every__ day. That kind of knowledge can't but perpetually __kill__ her inside. Insult to injury._

_Surely, if there was an alternative available, she would have taken it. And __still__, __her pain is __more __deep-seated __than __that__. __Because__ her betrayal came at the hand of a trusted __loved__ one… no matter __how__ innocent of any intended offense__ it may have been in the beginning… in the wake of it all- she has had __to helplessly witness__, in __full __eternal__ knowledge__,__ the declining welfare of __her__ families__… all while being condemned to inherent __honesty__ about an emotion so __devastating__ that __she__ cannot help but __hurt__ the world by __feeling__ it__…!__ The whole situation is so __exceedingly__ tragic__!_

_We are so alike_, Jasper muses, calming himself again with focused effort. _Immortals__,__ unwillingly living a life full of __absolute__ danger__ to everyone we come near. It's not __her__ fault __that her__ loving purpose has been squashed and hidden underneath the personification of evil incarnate… any more than__-__ once upon a time__, at least-__ it __was ever truly__ mine__.__ It doesn't absolve us of the __facts__, of course; __nothing__ can do __that__. In our own ways, we have __both__ been conscious agents of the very __darkest__ of magic known to man. O__nly__…_his expression suddenly softens into one of unfathomable pain and sympathy… _she__ has no power to __change__ that__._

_We__ do_. _And that's the defining element that ultimately has made any one of __our__ violations so much worse than __he__rs__. Yet,_ _therein also lies our calling_, he recognizes, as the consequential details of Edward's narration continue to unfold._ A lady is __clearly__ in __grave __distress__, __pleading__ for __any__ help we can offer. __Not__ doing so, when there is something we __can__ do about it… would only make us __party__ to those who __torment__ her- passively __allowing__ ourselves to become like __Babylon__ and __Voldemort__ in very __essence__! And… we __can't__ be that_, he shudders. _Never__ that. No matter __how__ incontrovertibly __awful__ I have truly been in my existence- and __still__ struggle not to be… a lady's wanton destruction is something I __cannot__ stand for. _

_Because__ that__ is, in essence,__ what __all this has come down to__.__ This __curse__ of her existence has to be the most __cruel__ and unusual __torture__ I have __ever__ heard tell about… absolutely the very __worst__ of emotional climates to be subject to. It's hard enough on all of __us__ to __hear__ about and remember; I can only __imagine__ how much more intensely she feels it in person. __This__ cannot__ continue__. Veritably, if there is __one__ thing in my __life__ that__ has __always__ been true… in the __end__ at least… it is that I have never been able to __abide __cruelty__. Even if that's __all__ I truly have left of myself, my Alice __loves__ me for it. She's told me it imbues our future with an inexhaustible __hope__- that which she needs more than __anything__, whenever a vision the likes of Armageddon starts to hit. I won't let her down again._

Sitting on the couch next to him, caught up in relevant visions of the future, his tiny mate is suddenly beside herself with horror. Though it is thankfully a short-lived episode- gone almost as fast as it came upon her- the effect on her psyche is no less profound. Had she witnessed some of the members of their family being burdened by these dementors' _aura_? Or maybe, gotten a glimpse of the dementors themselves living a torture she knows he battles with? What she saw _could_ have simply confirmed… that there would be _no_ end to their plight, _without_ capable intervention.

Looking to his brother with a silent, hopeful plea, Jasper entreats: _If there is __any__way__ we __can__ help__ her- we __must__! She's depending on us. _Not surprisingly, Alice is just as adamantly included in his statement.

Edward nods softly in sober agreement.

In the end, there isn't a one of the Cullens that doesn't _wholeheartedly_ agree with the determination to do whatsoever is conscientiously possible to _free_ them…

* * *

><p>Once the preeminent repercussions of the dementors' story have run their course, and the resulting conversations have quieted down, Bella thoughtfully offers up one final question. "Um… everyone?" she shyly inserts out of the blue, easily gaining every person's attention. "Edward…" she pauses with curious thoughtfulness, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, "if… you were somehow able to become… <em>human<em> again, do you think you'd still be a vegetarian?" It is obvious that she wants to be able to include _every_ member of the family in the scope of her question, though it seems simplest- and perhaps most natural- to ask it of only Edward.

On the couch next to her, as he sits with his comforting arm around her shoulders snugly holding her close, a myriad of sadly regretful emotions quickly play across Edward's countenance. "You know it's not possible," he speaks softly, quietly, eyes full of tenderness, "or we already would be. Even with the discovery of _magic_- it's just not the kind of thing we can hope for." However, the concern in his expression suggests that is exactly what he thinks she may be doing.

"I know," she reassures him quickly, a tad flustered at the unexpected topic of focus. "That's not what I meant."

"Oh?" he brightens with relief, chuckling once at his thankfully errant suspicion. "What _did_ you mean, then?"

Bella shrugs, shy concern dominating her behavior. "I'm just… remembering what you said earlier about… having to 'kill to live.'" Her voice lowers nearly to a whisper with the sensitive subject. "I guess… I'm wondering what you _really_ thought about that."

Suddenly solemn, Edward purses his lips and bows his head in serious consideration of her question, _and_ the thoughtfully forthcoming insights of the others around him. "You know- I'm not sure," he begins slowly. "When you think about it- whether it involves plants, animals, _or_ sentient _beings_… the taking of another life to feed our own still happens for _all_ of us, in one way or another. I suppose, in _that_ respect- our method of consumption is more _honest_ than the way humans do it; we cannot fool ourselves into believing that nobody had to _die_ for us. Still, not having to do it directly- or so _absolutely_- _would_ be a tempting thought. In that scenario, if any of us _did_ choose to live that way… I imagine our reasoning would be: just because we _could_. Of course, being able to _enjoy_ what we eat would be just as appealing- if not even _more_ so- because we don't have any particular _aversion_ to eating animals." He cocks his head in thoughtful contemplation. "Why? Are _you_ thinking of becoming a vegetarian?" he teases seriously.

Bella smiles, shrugging. "Not in _this_ life," she emphasizes. "I was just curious." She pauses, then appreciatively regards everyone. "Thanks."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** In regards to the discussion about the real danger of inferi, it should be noted that the magic of _warding_ requires a _positive_ characteristic to act upon. Thus, the_ lack _of body heat, heartbeat, or _any_ other aspect of conscious _life_ is unwardable against (in the same way as the _killing_ curse cannot be defended from). _Tracking_ sensors, being _passive_ constructs, do not have this limitation... and so, wizards unerringly have the capacity to _know_ when they're ultimately going to die in such a manner. Oh _joy_. (It's not as if the ability to conjure up _everlasting_ fire is a _common_ advantage.) Even though Voldemort has never actually _called_ upon this particular method of attack, as far as anyone is aware, the creation of inferi _has_ been linked to his identity. No wonder the wizarding world is so afraid of him.

Thank you, each and every one, for your wonderful shows of support!


	25. The Substance of Secrets

* * * The Substance of Secrets * * *

Explanation of the vampire deterrent and tracking systems, proves to be a challenging proposition. Certainly, these are very important constructs for all of them to know about… though, at the same time- the prospect of being an incontrovertibly _traceable_ species is _extremely_ unnerving. How are they to live in _peace_ with this kind of exposure? Clearly, by the simple matching of muggle travel logs to magical tracking data, _h__umans_ have it within their power to _identify_ them for what they _are_, even by _name_. What would they do with this kind of information?

The possibilities are daunting. Thoughts of being exposed to the media and having to go into _hiding _for the next hundred years or so- _if_ they could escape the Volturi for that long, of course- invade their peace of mind. None of the vampires like feeling so vulnerable to this scenario. The very _po__tential_ of it constitutes an attack against the sovereign ability to _live_ their chosen lifestyle with humans in peaceful privacy. Even if the tracking systems _had_ been, understandably, only cultivated for purposes of _protection_ against the traditional habits of their kind… it would be consistent with human nature to fight back against their predators in whatever ways they could.

Suddenly, the secrecy their quality of life _depends_ upon feels very tenuous. Much _m__ore _so than for others of their kind- who don't harmlessly interact with humans in the _first_ place, let alone on a _constant_ basis- a breach of this magnitude would completely undermine _any__ hope_ of effectively participating with society, for a _very_ long time. As well, it would become a lot harder to cultivate their own inner desires of _humanity_, and _purpose_, without the ability to actively _live_ as one of them. Some of the dearest joys of their lifestyle would be lost.

Meanwhile, throughout the greater world- the reputation of their species would only tend to _strengthen_ against them. Human society would very possibly _collapse_ under the constant fear generated by such an exposé, and at that point- there'd be nothing they could adequately do to _change_ it. Truly, if such a reveal were to take place in _this_ informational day and age… it might be something the world could _never_ recover from.

For the first time, Bella is prompted to imagine what life would be like if the foregoing were to happen- and it is _not_ a pretty picture. While the Cullens all manage to discuss the issue with the calmly controlled manner of those who've had to necessarily consider it _before_, _her_ face becomes almost _sick_ with horror as she listens in. Here are even _more_ very _real_ and _important_ reasons for the crucial secret they maintain- which extend _far_ beyond the welfare of just their own families. She'd known of them already, of course - in the back of her mind somewhere - but _not_ so graphically as _this_. Do these people even _recognize_ what they're _playing_ with? Edward hugs her tenderly in supportive comfort.

It's a wonder they haven't been exposed _already_. Human society has never been known for its _maturity_, after all, and the wizarding community is _no_ exception to this. With the power of magic at their disposal, in fact- it could take only _one_ suitably knowledgeable person to sound the alarm. Under cover of their existing wards, they would even be protected from traditional retribution. Therefore, given that the inherent motivation _and_ the capabilities _do_ exist, _how_ then- or _why_- have their identities remained protected?

_Possibly_, it has been simply helpful that the magical community- in general- isn't so commonly inclined to consult with _muggle_ data sources that they would have discovered the information. Then again- neither have the Cullens made a habit of living in _Europe_, where the tracking boundaries are tightest. Still, plenty of identifying information about them _is_ surely available- no doubt right alongside even _more_ detailed accounts of any vampires that actually _live_ in the area… all of whom would be known for their traditional lifestyles, of course.

Most conclusively, however, it's probable that the reason their species hasn't already been displayed to the world can be found within the prose of the Magical Statute of Secrecy- which enforced legal decree apparently _disallows_ the revelation of _any_ type of mythical creature to the muggle world, in protection of their _own_ magical secret. _Thankfully! __The vampire secret is __thereby __as binding upon __wizardkind__, for their __own__ sake, as it is upon the Quileute tribe. __Indeed, p__erhaps even more safely so, since their youth know the magic is __real__._

Still, it's an uncomfortable situation at best. Predator and prey species just don't instinctively work very well together. (Edward and Bella lock glances with each other and share a wry smile.) No doubt it would be prohibitively _difficult_ for magical society to _protect_ this secret, if they were living in this kind of fear.

It's probably _only_ due to the wizarding world's policy of warding all private magical areas _against_ vampire admittance (or more specifically, against _human-blood-drinking-creature_ admittance), in combination with some very clever use of unplottable and space-defying magicks in the process of hiding many of their more public locations in an accessible manner, that they have been able to stay out of the sights of the _undead_ vampire community. Similar protections that have long been instituted throughout the wizarding world against _persons with an active disregard for magic_ (known as muggles) may _also_ have had an effect upon them.

Over time, tracking data corroborated from nearby county lines has given wizardkind a pretty confident array of feedback to the effect that the illusory deflection of their wards works as well upon Vampires of the Undead (also known as 'U.V.s', incidentally), as it does upon most all other species. (Dementors are a notable _exception_ to this rule, due to the non-individual nature of their consciousness.) Would-be intruders become mentally deflected into taking a different course by the sudden belief that there is some urgent appointment or another that they must have forgotten about. Interestingly enough, just as with what's happened in response to any of _their_ mental talents being used upon her, _Bella_ appears to be immune to the effect.

Would any trace of human blood in their systems disallow them from entering? Most likely: yes. The most recent traces any of them have _had_ stem from the incident with James just over a year ago. However, Edward was able to visit Hogwarts without any difficulty… so the time must have been long enough. Still, an enforced separation at the wrong time _could_ prove to be very inconvenient indeed. _Let's hope we never have to find out._

In the end, this all poses some substantial new considerations of an ethical nature, which have to be addressed. Apparently, the normal movements of their _daily_ lives have not yet given the magical world cause for alarm- any more than they'd _expect_ to have at any rate- and so it seems that there is no problem with them crossing over these tracking boundaries when functioning in their traditional 'muggle mode'. Of course, it would be a very good idea to review a _map_ of said boundaries, for their own information, once any of them next visit the Room of Requirement. That way, it'll be possible for them to monitor what kind of data they have been unwittingly making available, and keep the future potential of revelation to a minimum.

Conversely, however, if they are to start functioning in any kind of a _magical_ capacity- or otherwise _interacting_ with magical society- they'll have to be painstakingly discreet about it. In combination with _any_ kind of magical expression whatsoever, they must _never_ cross those boundaries in a traceable fashion, lest those facts be discovered together and launch the wizarding community into widespread panic. The physical crossing of any and all magical _wards_ must _also _be avoided, since that _could_ have the same deleterious effect. They'll have to forever _apparate_ or otherwise find an alternate way to appear _within_ them instead.

Thankfully, any performance of magic _within the boundaries of the wizarding world_ isn't going to significantly catch their notice. As well, the closest tracking boundaries to their _current_ location follow along the Washington State line- so there will be no clear way to associate any magic they perform at _home_, with their movements across it. As a precaution, they'll want to be sure to adjust their evident trajectory whenever they're going to be crossing multiple state, province, or country borders in succession.

Now that magic _has_ been performed in their location, it _is_ possible that they may ultimately catch the attention of whatever local authorities monitor for previously unidentified magical ability. Even if some of these were to come knocking at their door, however- every one of the family is (even physically) clearly above the age of _magical_ consent. Therefore, so long as they can keep their true nature utterly concealed (as they _always_ endeavor to do among humans, though they must be doubly careful around any of magical orientation), there should be no outstanding issues of concern.

* * *

><p>On the vampire side of things, one apparent fact still doesn't sit right, however. After having considered the sheer <em>gravity<em> of _all_ the potential possibilities that were earlier discussed, it's a strange thing to imagine that the Volturi leadership could have simply chosen to _ignore_ the supernatural nature of the magical community. It doesn't make sense that they would do that; there's simply too much at stake! So, why _have_ they?

Carlisle's memories can attest that Timothy had in fact been _changed_ by Aro, coincidentally providing the Volturi master with the full complement of his human memories- which Timothy now can only sparsely remember. (At one point, Carlisle had heard him express gratitude for his sire's ability to help him recall various events from his past.) Thus, any chance of Aro _not_ actually knowing about the wizarding world, is nil. _Surely_ he has become aware that Volterra is a prime focus for magical surveillance? Yet, Carlisle cannot think of _any_ policies the leaders might have long ago established in an effort to _protect _their identities from discovery. _Neither_ have there been _any_ warnings issued, _or_ other efforts instigated, to help the _rest_ of the vampire community prevent accidental exposure.

Is discovery by the magical world somehow _not_ the primary issue of concern here? If _not_, then what _is_?

It _is _possible that their identities had already _been_ compromised… in which case further efforts to conceal themselves _might_ have been a wasted effort. Of course, further efforts could _also_ have clued the wizarding world in to their _awareness_, and triggered a wizard-wide panic much more capable of exposing them. So, maybe _not_ doing so was indeed the wiser choice.

But still… _why_ would they have kept the magical community a secret from their _own kind_? To everyone's increasing disquiet, the potential answers to _this_ question steer the conversation down much-less-than-_honorable_ paths.

It _is_ theoretically possible that, before he knew any better- Aro might have wished to _protect_ the potential talent pool of the magical community from outside interference. _What no one else knows about, __they__ cannot take advantage of._ It is no secret, after all, that the Volturi _do_ enjoy a significant level of prestige within the vampire community, and that they _have_ had to overcome some rather powerful opposition in the past, in order to maintain it. Though this ambition would constitute a less-than-commendable motivation on their part, it would _not_ be entirely surprising.

But there'd have to be more to it than that; otherwise, their silence wouldn't have still been in effect. Could it be… that after the magic-does-not-guarantee-a-gift connection was ultimately made, it would have been too much of a _hit_ to their reputation to admit that they had kept that information a secret in the first place? _Possibly_, except that one careful half-truth (to the effect of having just learned about it) would have been enough to avoid _that_ outcome entirely. So there must be something else.

_Maybe_- and this much-too-probable suggestion strikes them all with an uncomfortable degree of intensity- it would have been counterproductive to the Volturi reputation to have it known that there was an _entire human community_ that _they_ had _no access to_, and were thus _unable to enforce_. Let alone that its magical society was _aware_ of them. _Any_ element of exposure that rests _out_ of their hands, after all, paints a _much more vulnerable_ picture of them to the vampire race. Their enemies would have had a field day with it.

And so it would seem they have just stumbled into a _very_ defensively sensitive issue. Surely, if these suppositions could _indeed_ be the case- and it feels all too likely that they _are_, given Volterra's respected status in the community- _any_ uncontrolled information on this matter _could_ be viewed as quite a _significant_ threat against them. Potentially- even in the hands of _friends_. Multiple sighs punctuate the thoughtful silence, and illustrate the gravity of this realization. _Theirs is __already __a tenuous friendship__; t__hey wouldn't be too keen to find out that __we__ know._

It's bad enough that _Aro_ has previously had occasion to learn of their talents, and covet them. Even more than that- it's a bit disconcerting to think on the fact that he _knows_ so _much_ about the intimate lives of two of their number. Truly, it is a very uncomfortable sensation, to have become so personally exposed to someone you don't particularly want to associate with. Edward knows this feeling _most_ of all, since only he was in a position to clearly understand the nature and _degree_ of everything the Volturi leader received at their hands.

The whole situation has put their family into a psychological limelight they never wanted to occupy. _And_, threatened the long-term safety of some of their members. But worse than this: until such time as they will truly be able to _satisfy_ the Volturi that Bella's transformation has been _fulfilled_- there is no guarantee that it won't end up happening _again_. _This time, they might not be so lucky._

_T__hat_ would be a _disaster_.

Being that they now _know_ of the Volturi's impotence in regards to matters of the magical world, _and_ that those of the vegetarian diet appear to be _unique_ exceptions to the rule, which fact could theoretically be exploited… _or_ presumably used to _avoid_ recrimination altogether… a single touch from Aro's hand, upon of _any_ one of them, _could_ end up being_ the straw that br__oke__ the camel's back._

Fear is a powerful motivation, after all. No one can _imagine_ that the vampire leadership would be able to simply _let_ something like this _go_. Neither can they afford to rouse the ire of their coven. Therefore, if at all possible: the vampire leadership must _never_ learn of their magical associations. They'll have to be on the lookout for any magical method that might allow such a thing to be feasible.

Finally, inasmuch as the magical world has heretofore- supposedly- been a non-entity to the Volturi… as well as to the greater vampire population… so also must they allow it to _remain_ that way.

* * *

><p>Following this less-than-desirable conclusion, it isn't long before Edward and Bella retire back to the Swans' for the night. The whole day's events have been truly revealing and incredible- culminating in a thoroughly <em>enlightening<em> family experience- but they've also been taxing and troublesome, and Bella needs her rest. Come the weekend, they'll be experiencing this kind of excitement all over again- and it would be good not to wear her out too much before then. Information like this takes time to assimilate, fascinating though it is. _Besides_, Edward can admit freely_, it __is__ nice to simply have some time to be __alone__ again, __finally_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** As of this posting, I am working on writing only _five_ chapters ahead of what you're reading. So, I'm starting to feel the pressure (considering how many times I tend to like going through a chapter before I feel confident in its readiness to post). Ah, well. There's some rather fun new stuff coming up, though! I'm excited about that. :)

Thanks for all your wonderful support!


	26. Revival of a Legend

* * * Revival of a Legend * * *

Bright and early Saturday morning, once Charlie has left to go fishing and Bella has had time to grab a decent breakfast, Bella and the Cullens gather together loosely in the mansion's spacious backyard meadow- gazing over the scenery in anticipation of the headmaster's imminent arrival. Excitement and curiosity, mixed with equal parts caution and wariness, has everyone on alert as to what the day will bring. Cloudy weather blanketing the whole of Britain suggests that it could be an ideal opportunity for them to make any necessary excursions into the magical community.

Naturally, everyone is quite impressed with the sight of Albus magically materializing out of thin air- in a burst of flame no less (benign though the fire apparently must be to him)- and every vampire is clearly intrigued to see and smell the curious creature that is Fawkes, for themselves. Not being particularly familiar with the headmaster's _character_, however- especially in light of his knowledge- has most of them standing back at a generously polite distance in order to test the waters between them.

Albus Dumbledore is similarly surprised, and a little overwhelmed, by the sheer number of friendly immortals making up the vampire welcoming party. It isn't as if he hadn't _known_ of them all in theory, having heard each of their names mentioned at least once during their previous conversation, but it's still a very different thing to experience first-hand. Just _o__ne_ of them, after all, had been enough to threaten the _entire school_ by his _presence_… not to mention personally trigger the instinctual raising of hackles and fine-tuning of senses in natural response to the very real potential of danger in his vicinity. Though that reaction had dimmed over the course of the evening, as they had become further acquainted and comfortable with one another, the underlying reality of it all remained no less severe.

_Two_ of them reunited, later on- though curiously not any _more_ threatening to his enlightened sensitivities than _one_ had been- had nevertheless cemented this impression of their raw power even more deeply within his psyche. _What's one __more__, when the __first__ had already been sufficient to take you out?_

Now, with all of them _together_- it feels a bit like being surrounded by an _impenetrable_ wall of _omnipotent_ force, existing _completely_ outside of anyone's control, yet not of a hostile nature. _The grace of God, in very fact._ It is very nearly terrifying. _But __at the same time- __oh__ so appreciated__!_Certainly, it is easy to feel intimidated. Briefly, the image of himself sitting upon a miniscule raft- traveling at breakneck speed down the middle of a wide and treacherous river- crosses his mind. _That sounds about right, _he bravely acknowledges with a nervous internal chuckle, deeply conscious of the fateful mantle of the _entire_ wizarding world resting precariously upon his shoulders in that picture._ Better not attempt to get off! It's best to stay the course._

_Incredibly though, __Bella appears__ to feel right at home__ in the midst of it__ all__._ Standing directly to her left, Edward- the _least_ formidable-_looking_ of all the male vampires present- turns to regard her with undisguised adoration. As the headmaster watches on- she promptly senses her fiancé's eyes upon her and smiles right back at him, clearly smitten. _They are so obviously in love with each other__. _Underneath and consonant with their intensity of devotion, his demeanor is clearly protective- though also distinctly comfortable in company with the others._ There must be a great __deal of trust existing between them all. It is truly __extraordinary__._

* * *

><p>Introductions go well, and it isn't long before the esteemed professor is requesting the use of some discardable object large enough for all of them to hold on to simultaneously. Their portkey destination is to be Diagon Alley, London, where they'll get a comprehensive peek at the English wizarding community as they proceed to visit the wandmaker's shop located therein, for exploratory purposes. When Emmett promptly produces a <em>broom<em> from the kitchen closet, the humorous symbolism is not lost on any of them.

With the simple flick of Albus' wand, however, the atmosphere suddenly changes. All at once, seven fierce vampires are glaring at him in defensive alarm, horrifyingly tensed and eyeing him suspiciously, as if he had just morphed into some disastrously pernicious intruder. It doesn't make any sense to him at _all_, and it _sure is __unsettling_. _Faith_, he unsteadily reminds himself in the heat of the moment_. __T__hey've given you reason to have __faith_.

Cautiously, and with no little bit of confusion, every golden pair of eyes soon begins ranging over the landscape behind him, seeking for something unidentified. "Where is he?" Jasper asks in a low guarded voice, perilously unable to locate any foreign source of emotions in the vicinity.

Alice had foreseen this type of response coming from them, just before it happened, but couldn't for the life of her figure out _why_ they would react that way… to a human. Now that the un_view_able element of that picture has been identified, however, Edward has enough experiential and extrasensory insight to immediately recognize that the offending _scent_ is wand-based. "There's no one there," he replies calmingly, relaxing his rigid stance while remaining alert to the potential of strange thoughts in the area- _just_ for good measure. Presently, turning toward the apprehensive headmaster, he mildly asks by way of explanation: "Albus… where did you get your _wand_?"

The rest of the Cullens are surprised by the nature of his question, until the focus of their senses confirms that this may be exactly the olfactory origin they're looking for. Odd as that would be. Relaxing slightly at the not-so-threatening possibility, they each look back to Albus with curiosity.

Not sure where Edward is going with his question, and feeling somewhat uncomfortable in the situational spotlight after having been the focus of such a dramatic emotional shift, Dumbledore nevertheless cooperatively replies: "I… actually won it from a wizard I fought back in 1945." _At one time- I had counted him my friend_, he laments briefly, recalling with sorrowful clarity just how distressing the news had been of Gellert's immersion into the dark arts after their separation. _He never __had__ bought into my concept of what 'the greater good' truly meant, and so many people ultimately paid the price of those words, taken in vain. If only I'd have seen it then. Sigh. Hindsight is 20/20. _

Wrenching his attention back to the topic at hand, Albus wonders silently: _What are you getting at?_

"And before that?" Edward gently encourages.

"It… is said to have a history that dates back to the 13th century," Albus replies, bewildered. He can't fathom how this could be relevant to the situation at hand, but somehow it must be. _No one really knows what makes __this morbidly hallowed instrument__ so __powerfully __unique__, after all__._ "Why?" he wonders aloud, not generally having been willing to share this kind of information about the legendary wand he carries. It's simply a wise precaution.

"You have a vampire-core wand," Edward carefully discloses, watching him carefully. "The smell of your magic is the scent of a strange vampire."

Dumbledore is abruptly dumbfounded, a reaction candidly in sync with the nearly-comical widening of his eyes and the absent-minded opening of his mouth- just before he regains control of his expression. _Whoa. That explains a lot._

* * *

><p>Naturally, their excursion to London is temporarily postponed while everyone takes time to get acquainted with the newly discovered facts. Apparently, <em>every<em> wand gives off a scent when it's used (an observation Edward had occasion to make during the Triwizard Tournament), which smell appears to coincide with whatever creature's _essence_ happens to constitute the wand's core. (Harry's matches Fawkes, for instance.) Not a_ o__ne_ of them could have ever expected it would take the form of a strange _vampire_, however, any more than Albus could have known to warn them of it. _How in the __world__ would __such a thing__ have __happened__, anyway__?_

Helpfully, Dumbledore recounts for them the legend of the Three Brothers- the classic children's story he grew up with that presumably regales the origin and ancient history of the wand in his possession. In hindsight, the idea of 'Death' being the characterization of an _undead vampire_ seems oddly fitting. _It's too bad the tale never mentioned the color of his __eyes__, or we might have __been able to guess as much__… but of course__-__ maybe it__'__s better that we didn't._However, even after rehearsing the story with the benefit of this new perspective, the _motivation_ behind the granting of Death's three hallowed gifts remains a puzzling mystery.

Moving right into an account of the increasingly recent details of its existence, Albus eventually explains that: "Over the centuries, the Elder Wand's core has been speculated to be composed of many different things- _thestral_ hair being the most prominent theory, due to its association with both death _and_ invisibility. Thestrals can only be _seen_ by those who have known _death_, you see- and the wand's essence _was_ rumored to be particularly indiscernible. However, no one actually _having_ both the appropriate experience _and_ the expertise was ever able to _confirm_ it." _We know that Gregorovitch __tried__, sometime during the__ early__20__th__ century__._ "Some outspoken believers supposed it to have been formed from a _different_ invisible or otherwise unidentifiable essence _altogether_… and consequently- there has always been an air of _mystery_ surrounding what it is capable of. In the end, though- no one who's ever tried to _recreate_ it," _and there have been many, _"has ever been able to produce anything with significantly comparable power." _It all makes sense __why__, now._

Ensuing speculation between them all- eventually to the effect that Death's invisibility cloak potentially _could_ have been a product of the vampire's own _talent_ (thereby creating an effect that would have been invisible even to _their_ eyes), just as the resurrection stone _could_ have been an actual body part from another vampire _entirely_ (very possibly his mate, standing hidden- or otherwise invisible- just inside the trees?), remains _only_ speculation. But, it fits the facts… even with some degree of symmetry. Perhaps _her_ talent would have involved the ability to call up images of the deceased, according to one's memory of them… but it also required _touch_. Thus a donated body part was necessary to utilize it… which could have been an ear lobe, part of a toe, a tooth, or for all we know- a prominent _skin tag_ she didn't mind getting rid of. (Vampire conversions may make such things become _beautiful_, but that doesn't make them _desirable_.)

Ultimately, it's conceivable that the three hallows collectively _may_ have incorporated an expression of talent _and_ a body part from _each_ of them. A body part of _his_, in the form of a strand of hair, _could_ have been fashioned into the _wand_; an expression of _his_ talent _m__ight_ have already been available in the form of the _invisibility cloak_; and a body part of _hers_- which _also_ made possible the expression of her _talent_- would have become the _resurrection stone_. (The simple whiff of a second vampire scent is all it would take to substantiate or disprove this theory, were the stone available to them.) Regardless, whatever Death's original _purpose_- the resulting trio of artifacts _has_ inherently presented a rather fascinating model of poetic _irony_… which fact might have appealed to them.

But _why_ were the brothers' lives spared? What could have motivated such a pair to give of themselves to the human world? And how did they _know_ about wizarding society in the first place? Had they once been a part of it? Were they simply _bored_? Could this all have been some sort of elaborate _joke_ played upon the humans- ultimately contrived for the sake of seeing them _fight_ over the hallowed objects of their worst _predator_? If _that_ was the case, who is to say if they might still be out there watching it all play out? (Assuming, of course, it were possible for them to see past vampire _warding_ in the first place- which is not likely.) The unanswerable questions circulate unceasingly.

Curiously, this all _w__ould_ also rather easily explain why the ancient wand has never been known to show _loyalty_ to any but the current master who has won it. A typical vampire wouldn't have been inclined to _attach_ himself to any human, _or_ to put out any particular effort on his behalf… _unless_ doing so served his purposes. In this, its well-known orientation towards the dark arts would be easily accounted for.

By the time every aspect of noticeable possibility has been looked at upside-down and backwards, then thoroughly incorporated, the resulting conjecture has proven to be both familiarizing and illuminating. Every one of the vampires feels more at ease with their new companion, now, than they had been initially. He's been surprisingly cooperative and accepting of their natures. As well, the clear proof that _others_ of their kind _have_ been able to interact with this more inherently aware society- without any _hint_ of detection after all this time- is encouraging. In fact, it's almost _welcoming_. Being that the wand's evidence clearly indicates them to be 'magical creatures' in their own right, alongside so _many_ other different species already harbored by the _human_ wizarding community, an odd sense of belonging has surfaced that they have never felt before. It's nice, conceptually- not to feel so alone in the world.

Albus has simply been thankful, throughout all of this, that the Cullens' quite justified alarm was able to be kept so very well contained. Perhaps, under normal circumstances for them- initially meeting another vampire would have been a lot like _any_ family of humans meeting up with an unfamiliar of the same. Stranger wariness comes naturally in any species. Yet, this reaction had felt so much more _intense_ than that… perhaps as a consequence of the reality of _their_ natures, in combination with the fact that they have _humans_ in company. _How would __another__ vampire __have __interpret__ed __the situation, anyway__? __We're unquestionably a f__ragile and enticing__ delicacy to their lot… __let alone the fact that we __know __their secret__. Caring for us must really put them into a socially __vulnerable__ position.__And __yet __they __do_, he tenderly observes with an undeniable sense of respect. Silently, the headmaster offers another deeply appreciative salute to their beneficent attitude.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** And so I have come to challenge the theory of the Elder wand's core, with evidence of my own. It's truly amazing how these worlds can blend so well together!

Happy reading! And thanks again for all your wonderful support!


	27. Along the Yellow Brick Road

* * * Along the Yellow Brick Road * * *

Eventually, as the aptly fascinating discussion is brought to a close so that their plan to visit London can be resumed, the troop of them transport as one into the appropriately designated back room of the Leaky Cauldron. While all of the vampires remain enviably sure-footed from the jarring experience- even though thoroughly startled by it- and their seasoned guide responds in much the same fashion, Bella has to take a moment to once again control her budding nausea. At least, with every instance… it's slowly getting _easier_ for her not to throw up.

While the foreign members of their party follow quietly behind Albus throughout the establishment, the honorable headmaster is targeted by quite a wide number of respectful greetings. Invariably, however, as each sender's eyes come to rest upon his unfamiliar companions- the warm tone of their welcome flattens just a little bit, and the dazed look of a person unsure whether to be awed or intimidated is unmistakable. Almost instantly, the low buzz of the pub's clientele seems to peter off… and in the poignant silence that follows, any resulting comments directed toward the strange family in their midst remain brief and impersonal.

Nevertheless, the Cullens respond to every attempt with unfailing politeness (however brief and subtly aloof the interaction), and Albus recognizes that this subconscious ostracism must be a reaction the vampires have come to expect of _an__y_ human encounter… if not also _appreciate_ as well. _It makes sense__, I suppose… and is undoubtedly a better reception than they would have had if they were __known__._ As if in protest to this thought however, the contrasting motion of _Bella_ shrinking _closer_ to Edward under the discomfort of the attention spotlight, only to be _warmly_ welcomed into her _fiancé's_ arms, catches his twinkling eye- and he smiles internally, marveling. _T__he exceptions must be few and far between._

Subject to Edward's vigilant scrutiny, the various notions entertained by each magical human, in reaction to their presence, ultimately manifest along a similar train of thought: _Could they be m__uggles? __No__. Veela? Can't be; there's no such thing as Veela __men__. Stil__l, though__- they look too good to be true! __So __perfect__. It m__ust be some kind of potion… or__ a __fantastic__ glamour effect. Wizard adepts, then. They __do__ seem __to be __pretty confident__ about visiting a strange place; I've never seen the likes of them around __here__ before__. __Rawr__!__ Powerfully magical __and__ beautiful?! __Some people get __all__ the luck. Wouldn't want to cross them, though._

It isn't until every one of their party is facing the dormant magical gateway of a back wall, that Edward privately informs the others of what prevailing impressions they need to be aware of. Catering to what the surrounding community is already innocuously inclined to believe, after all, is generally going to be the smartest way to present themselves. _Thankfully, the truth never even crossed their minds. This isn't going to be difficult._

The opening of the portal turns out to be a singular event- as impressive to the Cullen party as could have been expected of _any_ teen-adult group unaccustomed to magic… though at the same time received in such an even-tempered fashion than any onlooker might have imagined it to be old-hat for them. Then, as they step curiously onto the ancient cobblestone, the bustling activity immediately on the other side of the fantastical archway has them all so captivatingly fascinated… that the bulk of them almost don't notice when Alice suddenly goes into a trance and is promptly directed into a little alcove off to the side of the main thoroughfare by Jasper- followed closely by Edward and Bella.

_She looks shaken_, Albus observes of the petite vampire momentarily, once they've all huddled around to join her… _as does Edward_, who appears to be hugging Bella as if his life depended on it. _Maybe it does_; the rogue thought suddenly strikes the keen headmaster out of the blue, and with a mental double-take he realizes that it sounds all too feasible to be ignored. _Edward __did__ allude that his life __has been__ threatened since he met her… though reputedly__,__ only the __Volturi__ are in a position to do so. Therefore__-__ when the Volturi __were decreeing __her __fate, they must also have threatened __his__.__ Strange that they got there separately, though_, he remembers noticing,_ before leaving together. Maybe he was trying to __protect__ her? Why did they have to __go__ to Volterra in the first place? _Abruptly, his attention is yanked back to the scene before him. A resolutely intense moment seems to be indicating a change in the vision- perhaps as a result of some new determination made between the two of them- and both Alice and Edward relax their stiff positions in wary relief.

The subsequent explanation is alarming, but simple. At _some_ point during their visit to this place, _Bella_ is going to be magically _spirited away_ to some unfamiliar location: a room in someone's house. What actually _triggers_ this emigration is _un__known_; it appears likely to happen from any number of potential launch sites, and the details as to what magic is involved seem different in each case… as well as curiously indistinct. However, if _Edward_ is not actively _touching_ Bella at the time, she will be transported there all _alone_- and will end up getting _tortured_ and very possibly _killed_ while the rest of them struggle to figure out _how_ in the world to track her whereabouts. As long as he is holding _on_ to her, however, the two of them will be able to return without incident. Visiting Diagon Alley at a _later_ date will _not_ change this from happening.

In the wake of such a disquieting premonition, it goes almost without saying that the two of them will _not_ be letting go of each other. In fact, it had been _th__is_ very decision, on Edward's part, that had turned the vision of this visit into something they could live with _at all_. (_Any_ chance of failure was simply _not_ an option; their trip through the Alley would have been completely _abandoned_ _long_ before that.) Perplexedly, Albus wonders how (_and __why_) the magic involved could have been so obviously attuned to _her_. No one _here_ would have even _know__n_ of her, or have _any_ reason to seek her out… so far as he is aware. It's all very confusing- and _much_ less welcoming of a gesture than he might have hoped for.

* * *

><p>While Miss Swan and the Cullens each take in as many of the sights and sounds of the magical community as their senses will allow, Albus good-naturedly escorts them all past the variously enchanting shops toward their first destination: Gringott's Wizarding Bank. In true tourist fashion, their stroll is pleasantly unhurried- and it is clear by their expressions and movements that his companions find Diagon Alley to be a truly <em>fascinating<em> place. Indeed, magical wonders beckon, spin, and animatedly tease at them from every shop window they pass. In the midst of it all, but in a smoothly unrehearsed manner he's never seen before, the Cullens' quite evidently _seasoned_ responses nevertheless glow with such a genuinely _untaught_ curiosity- that they naturally end up looking all the _more_ like the (magically adept) young adults they're assumed to be. _Ah, but it __has__ been a long time since I looked upon magic with fresh eyes_, he smiles.

It is only when Alice's apprehension unexpectedly begins to pique, as they draw closer to their goal, that the atmosphere changes. When she subsequently informs them of her inability to _see_ anything concerning their imminent monetary transactions… _or_ anything that happens afterward… the unfortunate shortfall puts them all on edge.

Apparently, she's only had to tell them something like this _once_ before… and the subjects in question were neither _human_, _friendly_, nor _uninformed_. _Shape-shifters, by all accounts_, Dumbledore observes,_ though I've never before met any that were __wolves__._ They're all quite understandably concerned. The only other (and much less invasive) visual block she's ever encountered… or, noticed perhaps… has been in relation to _Fawkes_.

Cognizant of the fact that the financial establishment's complement of personnel consists almost entirely of _Goblins_- who similarly fall into the category of _natural__ magical creatures_- Albus suggests that this tidbit of information may actually help to explain the anomaly. It _does_ help, Alice recognizes instantly, though it's not a very _reassuring_ omen. _If it __is __true__- t__hat would make them the __third__ type of __supernatural__ creature __I haven't been able to get __any __kind of __picture of__! …let alone see __us__ at all interacting with… and it's more than likely that we could be discovering a __lot__ more. Oh- I __abhor__ being __blind__!_

Especially when it involves being able to seamlessly integrate with such a curious and unknown society, the value of Alice's gift cannot be overrated. Insurance against unexpected disasters is _invaluable_; thus, each of the Cullens is feeling its loss… though _no one_ more than _she_. Being what they are, _none_ of them can really afford to make _any_ errors with the magical community… any more than they could have- once they'd encountered it- rationally afforded _not _to become familiar with it. And so, it's an unfortunate dilemma; a fine line they've been forced to walk. All they can do now is hope that this- potentially _species-specific_ handicap- won't end up manifesting very often. For the time being, it is at least fortunate that they'll have Dumbledore's timeworn expertise to guide them through the venture.

Once inside the grand edifice, the vampires proceed to set up an account- conveniently linked to their muggle funds- which will allow _any_ Cullen (or Cullen-to-be!) free access to wizard currency as might be desired in any future place or time. The whole carefully conducted encounter (painstakingly orchestrated to avoid any hint of the revelatory _disaster_ that Albus suspects may have resulted from any unwitting attempt at performing _blood_-based hereditary magic upon _undead_ beings) proves to be a thoroughly intriguing experience, as they all become familiar with yet another- distrustful yet oblivious- member species of the wizarding world.

Edward and Bella stick to each other like glue.

Though aware of what is behind the necessity, Albus is nonetheless amazed to see how careful _Edward_ is to never let his fingers leave her person, even while- during certain parts of the transaction- convention would have clearly suggested otherwise. He makes it seem so _natural_, to always be in touch with her- his constant caresses smoothly engendering a casual but nearly intimate display of emotions typical of the almost-newlyweds they are. One would have never guessed that there was an ulterior purpose behind the action. And, they are _both_ clearly _reveling_ in the chastely romantic contact. Across the room, Dumbledore acknowledges with cheerful interest, a few observers are smiling at the young couple that's so obviously in love. _It's truly amazing_, he silently agrees. _And it's what makes this __whole __thing__ possible._

Once their banking has been accomplished, Albus affably leads them back into the Alley, resuming the direction of their original route, past many more intriguing magical storefront displays on their way to Ollivander's Wand Shop. As they walk, keenly he observes that underneath the tourist-like fascination they display toward their mystical environment, the Cullens' tension is subtly but clearly evident. Every one of them is carefully and constantly scanning for any indication of what might bring Alice's earlier vision to pass. Yet at the same time, not being all that familiar with wizard society- and thus largely unable to interpret the magical signatures that are everywhere embedded within it- they're also not really sure what- or _who_- to be looking _for_. Truly, neither is he. When it comes to _what_, in the magical world, would be the most _likely_ catalyst for such a torrid affair… the _portkey_ could be _anything_.

Just in case, at Edward's request, Bella is making a point not to touch any object (outside of her hand grasped firmly in his)… and vampires casually walking before, behind, and on either side of her, subtly ensure that no other person will accidentally come in contact.

_It's amazing how effective that is_, Albus muses as they walk through the crowded streets and every otherwise-focused person they come near unwittingly shies away as if in a subconscious effort to hurry them along. Indeed, though this instinctual effect of their presence _is_ only very subtly evident- and relatively mild as these things go- as with every other formidable aspect of their beings, it must not be underestimated.

Almost as if in emphasis of this thought- a chance breeze blowing past them suddenly rushes in through the newly opened door of the Magical Menagerie… abruptly causing every cheeping, scratching, or otherwise barking animal in the shop to become eerily silent. Through the window, Dumbledore can see the familiar proprietor frozen in shock. _Is their __scent__ truly so pronounced? _he wonders, in awe of the evidence. _If __Mr. Zook__ weren'__t so __paralyzed__ with shock__, I __rather believe __he'd be scrambling__ to bottle up whatever it was__ that blew in the door-__ just so he could have a quiet shop more often_, Albus silently chuckles to himself_._ _Of course, _he frowns, _his __subsequent efforts to try and __isolate__ what__ formidable peculiarity__ made the difference__-__would__ lead to other problems.__ Sigh._

A few passersby also note the sudden change with various degrees of perplexity, though no one seems to connect it with their party walking along the far side of the crowded street. _That is very fortunate… _Albus' thoughts continue,_ though also an uncomfortable truth. So __much__ we don't see! _he laments. Truly, as much as Edward has hinted at the _many_ subtle clues and aspects of magical society that would make wizardkind 'more inclined to notice', it's quite another thing to have just narrowly avoided seeing them in action. _Sigh. But it would be pandemonium if they knew._

As they walk beyond view of the now somewhat disquieting store windows, Edward catches a final impression of the amazed shopkeeper's thoughts. It would seem- that _every_ animal he sells has been magically _enhanced_ in one way or another, which quality also serves to make them rather _resistant_ to the normal bouts of skittishness their muggle counterparts are subject to. _It's a matter of feeling instinct__ivel__y less vulnerable_, the proprietor believes, still caught up with amazement at the surprise of their unanimous silence. Consequently, such a mass calming effect as _this_- _if indeed it __is__ a calming effect-_ is all the _harder_ to achieve. _Something __powerful__ must be behind this_, he concludes._ Too bad I couldn't catch it in time! I'll have to make preparations for the future. Ah, but at least it couldn't be __dangerous__. We're in the middle of __Diagon __Alley__, for heaven's sake! No truly threatening creature would be __able__ to come __here__. Maybe next time, if I'm lucky…_

Edward snorts under his breath at the irony, and then shakes his head unimportantly in response to Bella's raised eyebrow. _No dangerous creatures, indeed! They're quite naively confident in their magic… of course, not that they don't usually have __reason__ to be. _His mind touches on the elusive magical menace lying in wait to fall upon Bella, and he growls internally._ At least it __is__ true that we aren't going to threaten them…_ Shifting Bella's hand that he's holding to his other palm, so that he can wrap his other arm around her shoulders and embrace her more snugly as they walk along, his protective demeanor is undeniably showing through. _…__So long as they don't threaten us._

Nevertheless, it is as they're walking past a non-descript bench in front of a second-hand robe shop, that the contributing elements of Alice's vision inexorably make themselves known. All at once- as Bella gasps at a sudden, sharp pain in her ankle- she and Edward are violently yanked away from the scene in a blinding swirl of color… leaving behind on the very public street two very worried patriarchs, and five additional vampires tense with the smell of fresh blood.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I'm sorry for the posting delay; my last minute editing run turned out to be a lot more extensive than I anticipated. And, Alice's gift _is_ a hard one to nail down the details of. :) But it's all good now, so here we are! I hope you like. Thanks very much for your support!


	28. Booby Trap

* * * Booby Trap * * *

Edward and Bella rematerialize in an unoccupied sitting room, where once again he gracefully holds her steady while she struggles to regain her composure. The piercing pain in her ankle is thankfully quick to recede, and is almost immediately followed by a sharp crunching sound as Edward's foot smashes the offending object to pieces against the carpeted stone floor. The fresh smell of blood still remains, however, so he gently guides her to sit in a nearby chair so that she can get a handle on her nausea and dizziness while he tenderly examines her foot and applies a convenient bandage... which he must have been keeping in his back pocket for _just_ such an emergency as this. _Gorgeous, braced-for-anything vampire_, she thinks affectionately, thoroughly relieved by the simple fact of his presence beside her.

"Are you alright?" he asks in a voice rough with emotion, oblivious to her thoughts as he looks up to catch her watching him. Her complexion is still pale, though her previously nervous expression has relaxed considerably… into something that now seems tenderly awed, and almost proud somehow. It just doesn't fit with the alarm and shock of the moment. _How can she be so calm__, at a time like this__?__ She's just been magically attacked! Not to mention kidnapped!_But she's obviously feeling better, and that's what matters.

At her affirmative nod and the surprisingly calm sound of her voice, he stands again- his fiercely protective disposition ensuring that he maintains contact with her person as much now as ever. His emotions are still raw, and an edge of desperation and relief is evident in his movements. Pulling her up into the embrace of his arms, he cradles her with passionate tenderness as they both look around to assess the damage.

The house that they have been transported to appears to be very old, but well-kept, and there are numerous bookshelves and small pieces of antiquated furniture creating the atmosphere of a grand home library. Edward confirms that it is a magical residence of some sort- a mansion, probably- located somewhere along the English countryside; he can hear that various non-human household staff, unconcerned with their arrival, are laboring in the immediate vicinity. Evidently, the obedient house elves had been told to expect _someone's_ arrival in this room of the Crouch mansion- at some indeterminate point in time- but were instructed to leave them _alone_ whenever it happened.

On top of the spacious area rug they're standing on, are the crumbled remains of a cobblestone- once matching the hues of the street they had been walking down only moments before, but now blending in seamlessly with the colors of the carpet beneath them. It seems this underhanded _imposter_ of a paving stone was a magical _master_ at camouflage… one which had evidently been animated and programmed to take a _bite_ out of her as they passed, thus bringing them here. _Why _is still unclear. None of them had thought to anticipate an _attack_ coming from _below_.

A door opening somewhere downstairs diverts Edward's attention immediately towards the wizards in residence. There are two of them- that is, if the grotesque half-formed creature in the first one's arms could fairly be called a _wizard_; it doesn't have a heartbeat. In any case, there are two wizard _minds_ acting as the masters of this house- the _creature_ being the one in charge… and they are _not_ savory characters. They are currently headed towards the library to apprehend their unseen visitor, evidently having been notified of her presence by the portkey he just destroyed.

Pleased but also extremely _depraved_ thoughts inform him that theirs is a very barbaric purpose. Regardless of the likely concerns or probable wishes of their captive, they are fully intending to forcibly recruit whomever their cleverly arranged booby-trap has brought here, in support of their own nefarious designs. _Something about a prophecy…_

Of course, it is all too easy to imagine how _Bella_ would have responded to such a threat, on her _own_; Alice's horribly interpretive visual images of what _could_-have-been remain hauntingly fresh in his memory. These _wizards_ wouldn't have been able to overpower her _mentally_- so they would have taken it out on her _physically_ instead_,_ trying out all_ kinds_ of various magical tortures in order to determine what made her tick. Until they killed her. The thought is positively _enraging_.

As the fiendishly bestial _Dark Lord_ and his Death Eater _minion_ ignorantly continue their approach, the closer they come, the clearer it becomes: if Edward is going to be able to keep from _killing_ the both of them _on sight_- and inadvertently exposing their secret to a consciousness that _cannot yet be killed_- they'll have to be _gone_ before these people can arrive to see them. "We need to leave, _now_," he informs Bella urgently, his teeth clenched with the barely restrained urge to wait and kill them anyway.

Nodding in willing acknowledgement, Bella concentrates her focus inwardly, and with a whisper of "Carlisle," they jointly disapparate from the room.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, back on the crowded street…<p>

As quickly as Bella's essential fragrance has permeated the air, she and Edward have disappeared. Thankfully, this fact _alone _is enough to nip any problematic reactions in the bud. As the tense muscles of their party become able to relax again almost as quickly as they stiffened, the lot of them are able to take comfort in the forecast of Alice's vision: _At least they're __together__; she'll be safe._ Immediately beyond their little bubble of excitement, the perpetual motion of the bustling street blissfully continues its pace, as if nothing of potential significance or consequence had just taken place.

Jasper _knows_ much better than that, however… and their apparently _simple_ little departure has left him with a very profound impression. This is the first time he's been around Edward when Bella has _bled_, since her birthday fiasco, and the difference is _phenomenal_. Though the strength of Edward's thirst has clearly not changed in any degree at _all_, what once triggered in him a barely contained reaction of _desperate_ bloodlust now causes him to not even bat an _eyelash_. It's as if his thirst for her no longer _matters_! _Especially_ in the face of such spontaneous and _intense_ stimuli, this mind-bogglingly focused and protective emotional… _attitude_ he now has… makes it _considerably_ easier for Jasper to handle his _own_ reaction to the rest of the collective bloodlust.

"How does he do that?" Jasper whispers, his own expression singularly amazed and impressed amidst the sea of worried yet relieved faces around him. "He didn't even bat an eyelash."

Anticipating Albus' confused intrigue as well as everyone else's interest in his comment, Alice circumspectly directs their party into a semi-exposed nook along the side of the street, tugging Jasper by the hand so that he can explain himself more thoroughly. "The last time this happened, it was all he could _do_ to keep himself under control…" Jasper's low voice recalls. _ Certainly, it was __enough to throw __me__ entirely out of balance__, even if it __weren't__ for the fact that her blood does smell __really__ good__._ "…and we all know how _that _turned out," he admits ashamedly, diverting his eyes as he does so; Alice's fingers squeeze his in a show of silent encouragement. Though Albus doesn't actually _know_ of the specifics, the atmosphere of the conversation is telling enough. "But _now_…" Jasper's voice brightens with a glimmer of hopeful disbelief, tinged with awe- "it's like it no longer even _matters_ to him anymore. She's his _singer_ for crying out loud! _How_ does he _do_ that?"

Carlisle's humble smile is proud. "It sounds as if he's made some significant progress," he observes with admiration, before turning toward Albus to offer a quiet explanation for their undoubtedly confusing exchange. "There is nothing more _intense_ than the appeal of a singer," he expounds with simple clarity, avoiding any words that would adversely catch the attention of passersby, "even when they _aren't _wounded. It is truly a good thing that they're as rare as they are."

Albus' eyes widen with sudden comprehension. _This is __not__ something Edward had previously divulged__ about himself__… or at least,_ he corrects his own thought, _it is not something that __I__ had __understood __to this degree, __from what he __did__ say. Is that what he'd meant by __'__n__ext to Bella, no one else is even a temptation'?__! _Dazed, he nonetheless replies to Carlisle's helpfulness with an appreciative nod.

Shifting his gaze back over to note Jasper's shocked but still clearly focused demeanor, Carlisle returns to his original train of thought. "But then," he smiles with a renewed sense of pride, "it would seem he's _not_ the _only_ one," he creditably acknowledges. Carlisle's inspiring emotions of impressed admiration have now focused upon Jasper. Alice beams.

"He's right!" Rosalie's quietly even voice speaks up in a clear show of familial support; they all know how much Jasper has struggled with this. "_You_ didn't have any trouble this time, either."

Esme's countenance has also lit up with loving approval, as well as some degree of anticipatory excitement in regards to the yet unrehearsed details of his success… and Jasper is touched by the unusual degree of admiration being directed towards him by _everyone_ in the family. He has to admit… in the heat of a bloody moment- _and_ surrounded by the magnified emotions of his family- he has _never_ before been able to maintain such an unfailing focus. It feels _really_ good to have been able to do so _now_.

"Cool, Jasper! How'd you do it?" In his companionable excitement, Emmett has managed to turn Jasper's own initial query back upon him.

"I- uh…" not used to being the center of their attention in quite this fashion, Jasper is temporarily at a loss of what to say. Thankfully, he is saved the necessity of immediately figuring it out, by the abrupt return of their absent duo. "Ask me again later," he gratefully defers answering the question. He knows there will be a _later_, but it will give him time to think it through.

* * *

><p>Just a few feet away from their personage of focus, Edward and Bella reappear in Diagon Alley with a sudden 'pop'. A few startled passersby promptly grumble in annoyance at the impoliteness of such an intrusive apparation point, but otherwise- life on the street around them continues on as if this kind of thing happened every day. For them, it does.<p>

At the first glance of his family, some vestiges of Edward's black rage remain initially visible in his countenance. Though he is able to school his expression quickly thereafter, they can't help but wonder what more must have been happening behind the scenes to bring it on. Clearly, this whole debacle has presented an intolerable threat to his fragile fiancé… and it's easy to guess that any dark mood of his would be an outshoot of that. Regrettably however, standing alongside a public street with _human _members in their party isn't the best time or place to inquire about or expound upon any significantly revealing details. Those will have to wait.

With an appreciative smile now directed toward his only _slightly_ nauseated and dizzy companion, Edward compliments Bella on their prompt magical return. "You're getting good at this," he notes approvingly. There is no trace of his earlier indignation, when he looks at her; only a sense of complete and utter devotion.

In light of the previously enlightening singer conversation, Albus' thoughts are drawn to once again marvel at this fact of their interaction. _It's easy to see why she loves him_, he smiles.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thanks again, everyone, for your wonderful comments and support! **  
><strong>

So you know, I currently have two more finished chapters to post before I will need to rely on storyette tangent material to maintain my posting schedule. (At the very least, I will like you to be able to know I am remaining an _active_ author- even once chapters of my primary story will start to come farther in between.) Because my storyettes are all based on this _same_ united-canon crossover reality, and inherent character focus, I believe you will similarly enjoy _them_. To this end, I have a curious question to pose: Of the two potential not-quite-finished storyettes I could post _first_, do you have any preference as to _which_ you would prefer to see _sooner_? The choices are between: a setting in St. Mungos, vs. Hogwarts; the timing of pre-change Breaking Dawn, vs. post-separation New Moon; and a prominent theme of delivery, vs. Delores Umbridge. If you have an opinion as to which of any of these you'd like to see posted first, please let me know! There's plenty of time yet. Thanks for reading!


	29. Introduction to Wandlore

* * * Introduction to Wandlore * * *

The inside of Ollivander's shop, though neatly uncluttered and spaciously arranged for its size, is nevertheless a somewhat cramped area for all nine of them to step into. Automatically upon entering, most of the vampires orient themselves as unintrusively as possible along the library-like shelving while Albus, Edward, and Bella centrally await the proprietor's response to the tinkling door chime.

Underneath the thin layer of dust, a different kind of power seems to be tangibly radiating throughout the room- almost as if some subtly potent magical force were lying dormant, yet also at the ready… patiently waiting for a suitable opportunity to make itself known. It's a more concentrated feel than what they've already had occasion to notice. And the scents that go along with it…! The room smells heavily of formidable predator alongside innocent prey, not counting the fiery scent of phoenix they've come to recognize, or the various human scents left by any of the establishment's earlier customers. Numerous less prevalent creature scents create a backdrop as varied as one might come across in a nature preserve. It's a fascinating assault to vampire senses.

In keeping with their need for non-disclosure, though still making a point to be truthful with his presentation, Albus respectfully introduces the Cullen family as friends visiting from America, and informs Garrick Ollivander that they are foremostly interested in finding out if he can produce an appropriate wand match for Bella. The obvious assumption is left unsaid: _wand shops in America would have offered a different compl__e__ment __of possibilities altogether__… and she must have simply not been able to find hers yet__._In reality, none of the visiting party actually _knows_ how much her recent muggle status may affect her ability to find one at all, but since it appears that _Bella_ has been the one doing the magic, this is their first order of business. Naturally (and hopefully) along the way- it will also be of interest to find out exactly _what_- if _anything_- the renowned wandmaker will be able to do for any of the Cullens… without cluing him in, of course. Sadly, Alice has been unable to actually _see_ any fruitful results of this interaction, for any of them- though that doesn't rule out the possibility.

Garrick is at once curious and fascinated. While it would seem that, possibly, the underlying magic of his shop may have fortuitously inured him to what power the Cullens have just brought into it… being personally _familiar_ with a wide range of magical creatures- by the very nature of his trade- has made him immediately cognizant enough to notice what features all of the Cullens have in _common_. _These __look__ good enough to be Veela… __and__ they have an otherworldly grace… yet there are males among them, so they __can't__ be the real thing. Their pale skin seems to have an almost luminous quality, which suggests some kind of ethereal, or perhaps spiritual, background. They also have a distinctly animalian eye color, which is curious; I wonder what kind of heritage could have brought that about? For sure- these are not a species __I've__ ever heard tell of._

His natural suspicion is that they are _hybrid_ wizards, all showing evidence of a common type of magical-creature in their ancestry, though he can't quite place what that creature-species would be. Full-blooded magical creatures (or_ beings_, as the case may be) invariably have distinctly non-human features that rather flagrantly set them apart from those of the wizarding world who are allowed to bear wands: exaggerated attributes (floppy ears, bulbous noses, thick body hair), extreme sizing, less than always-corporeal body forms, or otherwise conspicuous animal body parts (centaurs, mermaids, satyrs, sphinx… the list goes on, and there are many _more_ with no human features at _all_) tend to make them easy to identify… not to even _mention_ the universal penchant each has for manifesting species-unique social habits or language styles. However, all of these traits _do_ tend to become mitigated in the case of a hybrid… _It's a long-documented trend borne out by years of painstaking research_, the wandmaker recalls:_ '__the more __human__ a species is, the __less__ magical their essence'_…enough so that _wizard_-hybrids have been able to remain immune from the wand-wielding restriction. _Clearly, t__hese guests look and act too __human__ to be creatures themselves. _

Delving right into the ever-intriguing task at hand, Garrick notes immediately that Bella is surprised by his use of a magical tape measure. _She must be__ relatively__ new to the wizarding world__, then__.__ Odd, at her age- but it happens._ In consideration of this, he keeps up an informative narration while he proceeds to offer wand after wand- briefly detailing the unique characteristics of every potential match as he systematically narrows down the possibilities. From his manner, it's obvious that he likes what he does.

For Edward, his _thoughts_ are a whole 'nother boon altogether. While his family remains silently fascinated by the learned man's magical monologue, and particularly excited by the discovery of what the bulk of his wand cores consist of (which explains the previously unidentified scents in the room)… all _kinds_ of unsaid details as to the finer nuances of wand creation are simultaneously crossing his mind. In combination with Dumbledore's also knowledgeable and astute observations, it's like having a crash course in Magical Methodology. Wandlore is _indeed_ a very _captivating _magical science, for which the art of wand-making provides a truly _creative_ outlet. There is so _much_ here to be considered!

Apparently, the basic purpose of a wand is to be an object of _focus_- by which a wizard can not only _concentrate_ his mental effort, but also _magnify_ it through a much more powerful magical medium than he alone is capable of. _Humans_ are not a particularly _magical_ species, after all; it is only by the uninhibited stimulation of magical _awareness_ within their psyche, that magic becomes possible for them at all. _That_, of course, brings up the whole 'nature vs. nurture' debate running rampant among wizardkind- which seeks to explain why _some_ wizards can be _muggle_-born, while occasionally _others_, still thoroughly entrenched within magical society, can never seem to be able to pick it up. (They're known as _squibs_.) It is also the reason why _all_ forms of ultimately _wandless_ magical accomplishment, of which there are many, initially require a _wand_ to be able to master. _We learn a lot from the wands we wield._

Consequently, that's also why _purely _magical beings are routinely denied wands; humans are afraid of what more power that could give them. Of course- neither do they _require_ such crutches; something inherent to their makeup makes the manipulation of magical forces come natural to them… and the rest is history. Certainly, there _have_ been accounts of two different magical species interacting as wand and user in the past- particularly _before_ the ban was set in place; it _did_ make the wielder capable of more types of magic than they had been naturally inclined towards. And, they learned it quickly. The scary part of this was- that any _new_ aspect of magic actively developed in this way, ultimately became just as _wandlessly_ powerful in their psyche as those which he or she had already been predisposed to utilize. Thus, given a suitable wand and just a _little_ bit of time and effort- it was theoretically possible for _any_ magical being to transform themselves into a personage with _omnipotent _abilities no one would be able to predict, or defeat. _That_ was just too much to allow. And so the ban. Contrastingly, _homo sapiens_- as well as their _hybrids_ within the wizarding world- are a species intrinsically _slow_ enough on the scale of magical development over the course of their lifetimes… that the attainment of this degree of ability has never been an issue.

Anyhow, from those simple beginnings- wand science has become a comprehensive study of what various magical tendencies and potencies are _unique_ to any given species, and how compatible those combinations _are_ or _aren't_ with the requirements of human society. Certainly, the search for true wand-species affinity has given rise to a _lot_ of different approaches over the centuries. In the end, the _best_ species for use in wand cores have proven to be both very _powerful_, magically speaking, _and_ possessed of natural character tendencies that parallel the prevalent elements of human psychology. This latter quality is what generally makes it possible to _find_ a suitable match at _all_, let alone on the wide scale a wandmaker's profession dictates.

It's because there has to be a basis for _camarade__rie_ between the essential natures of wand and user, if the one is to be _able_ to choose the other. Across any two given species, this can be a particularly difficult chasm to bridge- since their inherently diverse natures have a potential to clash even among the most _closely_ aligned. But, that's where the structural necessity of the _wood_ comes in handy. It provides a stabilizing and regulating framework, through which both natures can effectually work together.

Consequently, these ingrained characteristics must _also_ be taken into account. Strictly speaking, the _wood_ of any wand is the means through which the _magic_ of its core's essence is _tapped_… and thus, its _qualities_ inherently determine _how_ and _which _of the aspects of a core contributor's essence are _drawn_ upon. Practically speaking, this means that a whole slew of suitable wands can be produced from any given core-donor, by simply changing the wood with which each instrument is created. No _two_ of them will ultimately choose the same wizard to be wielded by, being as the effect is even capable of turning out diametrical opposites. (Harry and Voldemort's shared-core wands are an example of this.) _Conscientiously_, of course, it also suggests that _some_ woods should only be used with the greatest of care.

By the same reckoning, not every _individual_ of a species will make a suitable donor. Donor-hunting is thus an exercise in natural selection at its finest. Within the sphere of character traits that may or may not be displayed between individual members of any given species, it's the personality _quirks _which ultimately determine the wide or narrow range of any given donor's compatibility; they are the most defining elements of an individual. Certainly, the more generally appealing any creature's idiosyncrasies _are_, to the whole of _wizardkind_, the more likely their contributed essence is to produce a _match_.

Of course, all of this doesn't change the fact that it takes a truly _unique _combination to fit any given witch or wizard, more often than not. It's part and parcel of belonging to an autonomous magical society, and is the reason why _scores_ of wands are ultimately generated in an effort to preemptively accommodate _every_ type of wizarding personality known to man. All in an honorable fashion, of course. Wands oriented _strictly_ towards aptitude in the _dark arts_ have never been promoted by an _Ollivander_.

Thankfully, it's always easy to tell when a wand has chosen its master, and when it has not. In the hand of a potential master, subtle differences in any wand's output will clearly indicate which parts of its makeup are compatible, and which are not. Since the static properties of the _wood_ are already well known, as are the prevailing _natures_ of most wand-core species, all that's left is to be well-versed on the idiosyncratic details of every wand's _donor_, in order to make the whole process flow smoothly. Incidentally, that's why it's so important to culture a good memory.

Whenever a new customer shows up for a wand-fitting, a few basic measurements provide a basis to start from- in the process of selecting which wands are most likely to be compatible- and the insight gleaned from each discarded potential allows the remaining possibilities to be narrowed down until the right one is identified. A fringe benefit of this, is that he can usually get a pretty solid impression of a person this way, without the need for a lot of conversation between them. Case in point…

_Innocence likes her; the unicorn core is clearly compatible… but then so is the independent nature of the phoenix core… __and__, somehow, the __dragon__'s__ raw power as well. __That's__ unusual; she doesn't show a clear preference __between__ them. Additionally, and most tellingly- the idiosyncrasies __always __clash. As far as woods go- Apple, Beech, Fir, Pine, and Vine have shown themselves to be particularly suitable possibilities… __suggesting that she has a lot of deeply __hidden __strength__, along with a noble complexity to her p__syche- which makes hers a difficult personality to __identify__ for a match._

In the end, there is always a lot of trial and error involved in finding the right wand for any witch or wizard… but that's only because the nuances of a personality (either the wand-donor's _or_ the wielder's) are hard to determine from a cursory meeting. Thus, even after _all_ the aforementioned considerations have been suitably accounted for, the business of providing wands truly transforms the practice of educated guessing- into an _art_.

That would be why Garrick likes it so much; it magically appeals to both the scientific _and_ creative aspects of his personality._ Fascinating stuff! Oh so fascinating stuff! _

Edward chuckles to himself in agreement.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** This was a fun chapter to write! I hope you've enjoyed it. Thanks for all your encouraging reviews and support!


	30. Essential Setbacks

* * * Essential Setbacks * * *

What seems like hours later, Bella is still standing in the store waving wand after proffered wand- and is clearly feeling discouraged by the fact that they have been unable to find the right one to fit her. Surprisingly, _Edward_ has been finding the whole experience to be unusually fascinating… though she can't, for the life of her, see the appeal. It must have been something he _heard_, since he's been watching _her_ the entire time. Her muscles are protesting. His light massage of them feels good.

_Finally_, Mr. Ollivander's systematic movements come to a stop. Apparently, as he now proceeds to explain, _all_ of the potentially suitable wands in the shop have been tested against her… and no already-created combinations have shown affiliation. "Not to worry, though!" he quickly reassures them all with a glint of excitement in his eyes, as Bella's face twists with the predictable chagrin of one who worries that she might not be magical enough to _wield_ a wand in the first place, or that there must be something too strange about her that will prevent her from fitting in with wizarding society. "It's just a little bit of a setback. Occasionally this happens; it _on__ly_ means we'll have to approach finding your match in a _different_ way.

"Naturally, as you might have guessed," he elaborates, "I don't actually _carry_, pre-made in my store, _every _possible combination of wand that could ever be conceived of… _far_ from it, in fact. I simply try to make sure that the _best_ and most _likely_-to-be-compatible options always remain available. Inevitably of course, _some_ ideal combinations will have escaped my notice- wandmaking _is _a very complex science, after all- and so, sometimes we have to resort to alternative means for identifying which best possible solution might suit any given person.

"There is in fact a great deal of potential that can be discovered by the handling of any of the various essences that could potentially go into the creation of a wand. It's a less-than-precise approach, to be sure- since the other elements of a wand's construction can ultimately make quite a significant impact upon its overall magical orientation- but neither does it restrict us to whatever predesigned selections are currently available. Truly, the sky is the limit!" _Which is as it should be. Though it's commonly only the most __unique__ of personalities that ultimately require this method, the science of wandlore has made such great leaps and bounds from the efforts expended on behalf of each and every one of them… that I cannot __help__ but look forward to it every single time!_

"Basically, the idea is that- the more compatible with any particular _core_ a person is, the more likely that a wand made _from_ it will be ideally compatible with them." _Indeed, it was a most fascinating discovery… the day my many-greats uncle Geronimo came into direct contact with his own most perfectly compatible wand-core donor. Family legend tells us he had been collecting samples from this particular unicorn… a key product of which later turned out to be his __own__… when a __powerful__ display of accidental magical __brilliance__ overtook him. It was as if the unicorn __itself__ had been acting as a better wand than any __he__ could have possibly produced._

_Naturally, he wanted to be able to retain this connection indefinitely, as well as study the phenomenon in depth… but a unicorn will not tolerate the presence of a grown man for very long- even at the best of times. So it was not possible. Still, it was __this__ encounter which birthed __the theory of wand-core donor compatibility. As rare a thing as it is for __any __two__ wand-kindred entities to come into contact with each other in the first place, this phenomenon has only been repeated twice since… each time with similarly unsustainable results, __and__ the happy bi-product of an ideally compatible wand. Apparently, though the direct-contact effect is __enviably __powerful__ when it occurs, a __wand donor and it's user are __only __transiently__ compatible __without__ the wood that stabilizes their interaction._"And so, we seek to identify the _most_ compatible core."

"If you'll excuse me for a moment," Mr. Ollivander momentarily pauses, smiles silently, and holds up one finger as if to say 'hold that thought.' Then, with a slight bow, he promptly turns on his heel and disappears into the back of the shop for a protracted moment.

Immediately in his wake, the Cullen party is quietly abuzz with fascinated wonder and careful information. At a volume that Bella and Albus can only _just _hear clearly, it quickly becomes evident that Ollivander's talk of wand cores has incited everyone's keen interest.

Apparently, with every new wand-core that Bella has already tested out, the Cullens have been given both a _name_ with which to identify the accompanying species scent, _and_ a much more comprehensive _perspective_ of the fascinating realm of magical creatures. Many of the more amazing details of a being's basic nature are inherently suggested at through the character of its _scent_- which can, in and of itself sometimes, be enough to debunk or substantiate various claims muggle legends have promoted in relation to them. Other times, it simply serves to confirm the species' factual existence… but in such a way as to easily _tease_ vampire curiosity and leave them fascinated to learn more.

Naturally, the idea of having _further_ opportunities to this end is appealing… which is a very good thing, because- as Edward happily attests- their resident specialist is even _now_ in the process of bringing out for them: the basis and culmination of _over a millenia_ worth of Ollivander study and effort. _Every_ magical being or creature he or his ancestors have _ever_ even _considered_ for wand use, combined with _everything_ that's ever been _collected_ from them (which hasn't already been put into a wand, of course), is represented therein. It's an exhaustive and _valuable_ collection.

For some strange reason, however, Alice cannot seem to _see_ any picture of it. Every time she tries, the view of her vision cuts off just above or beside whatever Mr. Ollivander must be handling- such that she can see _him_ just fine, but can't get any sense of _it _at all. It's _highly_ irritating, and unprecedented._ No __object__ has ever thwarted my visions before! __They can't make __decisions! Although_, she has to admit,_ neither has any such item been __based__ upon a__n unfamiliar__ magical creature's __essence__. __Come to think of it- I don't recall ever having seen a __wand__ in any of my visions, either… well, aside from Albus' special case. __I hadn't__ noticed this before. Sigh_, her thoughts are tinged with dismay, _it __is__ in keeping with the unviewable magical species theme__. __Perhaps it is as a consequence of this, that I __still__ cannot see us finding Bella's match._

Lastly, but no less importantly, Edward speaks up to inform them of Mr. Ollivander's more educated suspicions of their nature- so that they can all make sure not to do anything that would _thwart_ his astute but as yet _harmless_ assessment. "He believes us to be _hybrid_ wizards… which theory explains our shared characteristics, yet obviously human demeanor… though he hasn't decided yet what kind of _human x magical being_ we must be."

_Fantastic!_Emmett's thoughts are excitably roused. _I hope it'll be something __cool__._

* * *

><p>When the wandmaker reappears, he is toting an ancient and rather hefty-looking tome… which appears to be oddly weightless in his arms, despite its size. As he magically summons a handy book stand to settle directly in front of them, then places the book down upon it, they can clearly make out the engraved script of its title: All-I-Wander, In<em>cor<em>porated.

Their host apologizes briefly for his absence, citing the fact that- due to the delicate nature of its contents- his core collection encyclopedia has been tethered against summoning. What he _doesn't_ say, of course, in an effort to not advertise just how _timeless_ of a treasure his book is- is that there are many _more_ protections acting upon it, than only _that_. Chief among them, would be the fact that it can only be _lifted_ from its perch by a direct blood descendant of the original wandmaker; for all others it would remain prohibitively weighted down. Neither can it accept _new_ charms or protections, from any but the same.

Though it is quite impressive looking, Bella- _and_ most of the Cullens- thinks it looks rather _small_, and/or- well- _book-like_, to really be the storage space for such a comprehensive collection of cores, as has been hinted at. "Ah, the beauty of magic," Garrick correctly interprets her expression of curious confusion, thoroughly aware that an entire _rooms-worth_ of wand-making material has in fact been made accessible to them with the turn of every page- due to the judicious use of space-expanding charm work. That's part and parcel of what renders his tome so intrinsically _heavy_ for anyone not of Ollivander descent.

"Sadly," Mr. Ollivander resumes his earlier commentary, "I am afraid to say that the chances of finding _exactly_ the right match _do_ tend to go down with this method. Only a _perfect_ core-match has ever unfailingly been able to produce an ideally suited wand, you see… and such matches are _very_ rare. However, there need be no cause for alarm. With the information gleaned herein- we will be able to come pretty _close_ to your ideal in _any_ case. We _will_ be able to find the _best_ wand that works for you," he assures Bella confidently. "Don't worry. Even some very prominent people in the magical community have had this happen to them."

Keeping his eyes away from the exemplar in closest proximity, so as not to reveal him, Garrick's thoughts nevertheless continue to elaborate. _Albus Dumbledore is one of those, in fact- though it's not my place to volunteer such information. Wands that have been less-than-perfectly matched to their owners, after all, invariably suggest a potential __vulnerability__ about their masters to the wizarding community… and thus, any identifying intelligence linked to them has been deemed confidential. (Well- outside the professional family circle, at least.) _He cannot assume the good headmaster will wish to reveal details of his _own_ situation in present company.

And so it is mildly shocking when he does.

"Indeed," Albus volunteers helpfully, "I would be one of them." His calmly simple but telling declaration modestly encourages the wandmaker's free conversation on the subject.

As numerous curious and hopeful eyes turn toward the good headmaster, grateful for the encouraging vote of confidence, he elaborates. "I was eleven at the time, and attended to by one of Mr. Ollivander's esteemed predecessors… your grandfather, I believe," Dumbledore turns to acknowledge Garrick with a nod, "who utilized somewhat of a more _diverse_ wand-core approach in the quest of matching the right instrument to his customers.

"Nothing would fit, however, and we had to try quite a few different approaches before we could come up with a wand that would suit me." _Wand-wood scoping, eccentricity testing, dual core experimentation, attribute triangulation…_ "I didn't take to the waiting very well…" he chuckles reminiscently. _I couldn't sit still, actually- I was so __anxious__ to be performing magic! _"…and we never _did_ find my absolutely _perfect_ wand." _My__, but t__hat seems so long ago._ "However, I _have_ had occasion to learn quite a bit _more_ than the average consumer knows about wandlore, because of it."

_Of course_, Mr. Ollivander agreeably nods to himself. _There __are __some__ benefits to requiring such an elusive match, after all. Knowledge is power, as they say- and Albus __is__ a __powerful__ wizard. Somehow, __never having been able to __find__ his __own __ideal wand hasn't seemed to __cause __him__ any significant setback__. __That's a good thing- and maybe that's even __why__. _"Laurel and hippogriff, wasn't it?" the wandmaker queries with tentative curiosity. He knows of its make-up through family _legend_, rather than via personal experience.

Dumbledore welcomes his query with a warmly affirmative nod. "Hippogriff was one of his personal favorite cores to work with, in fact- though only _rarely_ did it ever produce a suitable match. It sets a very exacting standard."

Garrick nods, just a little bit tickled by Albus' positive reminiscence of his family, _and_ his evident knowledge of wandlore. Outside of the wandmaking profession, he doesn't get to converse like this very often. "A very ambitious but honorable combination," he observes, with a hint of appreciation. Indeed, this particular wand would have _ceased to function_ for Albus, and/or rejected his ownership _outright_, if he had not lived up to it. "And it still serves you well?" he inquires, academically pleased with the headmaster's affirmative nod at his admittedly nosy request. "Though it's rather different than what you use now, I hear." _I know it's __really__ not my place to ask such a personal question of him, but I'm __so __very__ curious to know if he might__ have run across his __proper match in a competitor's __wand shop? It would easily explain why he now __reputedly __uses a __different__ wand than the one __my grandfather__ once sold to him.__ If so: __what __is __it __made __of__? What kind of elusive combination is it that would so perfectly suit his personality? I hope he picks up on my invitation to elaborate on this topic. _

"Yes," Albus amenably confirms, keenly aware of Garrick's real interest in his answer. Under his calm façade, the man is near to _bursting_ with professional curiosity. "But it was _won_ rather than _chosen_."

"Ah," the wandmaker's hopes are deflated as quickly as they rose. _That's o__ne of the few __semi-__reliable ways that a wand's loyalty can be secured__,__without __it being __a perfect fit_, he concedes._ And so the mystery remains._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Even though it is not finished being written yet, I am hopeful that I will be able to post the next EM chapter on schedule. If that doesn't actually turn out to be the case, however, in its place I will alternatively post the beginning chapter of my first EM-related storyette: Encountering Oz- A Magical Detour. (Can you imagine what it would be like for Edward to unobtrusively walk into Hogwarts, combined with a scenario that has them being more aware? It'll be exciting!) Anyway, if in two weeks (or at a later time) you find yourself missing out on my next post of EM, you know what to look for. :) (I won't be giving notice via a fake chapter to this story.) In any case, please rest assured that I _will_ continue to post to EM as regularly as I can. We definitely have some exciting questions to be answered soon!

Once again, thank you for all your wonderful comments, favoring, and support!


	31. Prismatic Perspectives

* * * Prismatic Perspectives * * *

Turning his attention back to the task at hand, Mr. Ollivander internally chuckles- once again- at the Ravenclawesque humor of his tome's title (a long-standing family witticism, apparently), then gently opens up his thick volume to the first informational page.

Immediately, the magical nature of its design is evident. While the left page holds only a heading, an animated snapshot, and a thorough enough assessment of the species in question that the writing has to be _miniscule_ to fit it all in (apparently because it is charmed to readably magnify only for an Ollivander… though its prose remains clearly discernible to any onlooking _vampire_), the right page _completely_ defies _any_ expectations they might have had as to what such a deceptively thin page _could_ have held. It is three-dimensional! As if the page's surface were instead a translucent _force-field_ protecting the various samples on display beneath it, its contents actually appear to be inset two inches _deep_ into the book's thickness- and neatly organized into circular feathery bundles by individual donor. Only the tips of each sample are visibly poking out, however, suggesting that there must be a significant amount of _additional_ hidden volume _behind_ the scenes. A locked metallic access door takes up the bottom right corner of the page, and presumably provides the way to reach _into_ that unfathomable space.

Only a few individual donor bundles are poking up underneath the illusion of display glass, each tufted spray being evenly spaced across the total expanse of the page and minutely ranging in width according to how much core material it actually contains. From a brief (and most informative) glance (in the case of the vampires, at least), the facing page identifies this species as the Abada… a commonly under-recognized preternatural creature of average magical vivacity, which looks to be a smaller two-horned and brown-haired cousin of the unicorn. Only a head is visible within the mounted paper frame, as one of them most-shyly pokes out from behind the thick tropical vegetation of its African forest home. Apparently, any view at all of them is rare; this was a very lucky picture. The samples appear to be composed of its hair.

Straightaway, the wandmaker directs Bella to gently swipe her hand along the feathery sample tips- _just_ enough to briefly _touch_ each one through the insubstantial force-field. As she does so the glassy film stretches fluidly to accommodate her hand- and becomes almost _liquid_ with color at every point of contact as it prismatically communicates the nature of each sample's compatibility to any learned observer. It is a _fascinating_ process to watch. _And_ for the vampires to smell.

Noting the predominately bright-greenish rainbow effect of her touch, Mr. Ollivander reflects upon the significance of its coloring. Evidently, as Edward can discern from his thoughts, the seven colors of the rainbow correspond with each of the basic self-defining aspects of a personality… red indicating the most _tangible_ aspect (whatever personal details that may exactly involve being undeterminable), to violet representing that which is most _abstract_ or _ethereal_ about them… and through the magical film each hue appears darker or lighter according to how closely the _toucher's_ nature is compatible with the core in question. The better the match, the more transparently pastel-looking _every_ color of the rainbow will appear to be.

The look of wonder on Bella's face, when she looks back towards Edward, is captivating. The book _is_ a fascinating magical marvel. And Mr. Ollivander is already reaching to turn over the next deceptively thin page. Anxious to not let such an opportunity pass them by (though, admittedly, even _more _interested in simply sharing this experience with Bella), and specifically aware that Alice can already _see_ Garrick's unconcerned response to his pursuit (even if not the actual _colorings _displayed in his tome), Edward extends his hand to politely pause him with the question: "May I?"

Somewhat surprised by the request, but also immensely pleased by the academic opportunity afforded by it, Garrick welcomingly encourages Edward to follow suit.

Underneath his cool fingers, the prevailing colors turn out to be a mix of dark red, burnt orange, and aqua blue- the effect giving an overall impression of a richly marbled, earthy brown. Everyone in the room is _captivated_ by the discovery, in coordination with whatever insights they do or don't have about the reality of Edward's nature. As well, most of them have to admit, there is something alluring about being able to see this self-defining representation of _he_ who has always been able to read into their private thoughts. It is also interesting to clearly observe that the magical force-field responds as well to _vampires_ as it does to humans.

No additional Cullens venture forth to attempt the same, however. At a sub-human volume, Alice has already seen fit to inform them that Mr. Ollivander would quickly become uncomfortable noticing the distinctly _dark-reddish_ family-consistent color pattern, were they to try. (She was able to see Edward's future self warning her about it.) It makes sense that _any_ living creature would feel incompatible with the most tangible aspect of _their_ natures.

But there will be no problem with Edward and Bella continuing to do so. And so, with an interested hum of acknowledgement and no further interruption, Garrick proceeds to the next page.

* * *

><p>With some variation between species or individuals of a kind, it turns out that Bella's color mix tends to rather consistently manifest with some form of dark or medium <em>green<em>(suggestive of some kind of ideological _choice_ she's made that doesn't sit well with any of the species in question), periodically streaked with other- usually less prominent- hues of the rainbow. _Like leaves in summer._ On the other hand, Edward's constantly marbled display unfailingly involves a dark _red_, most often includes a bold _aqua_, and is intermittently accompanied by an additional color or two, which causes the overall effect to turn out as one shade or another of rich brown.

_His are definitely __tangible__ and frequently __mental__ incompatibilities then__,__ which uncommonly manifest across the species__-__ just as hers do. __Maybe it has something to do with her having fallen in love with a __hybrid__ wizard?_ Garrick observes of them;_ such beings __are__ often pickier about what species' cores they will accept. Not usually to __this__ degree, I think… though I haven't actually tested very many such beings directly, and so it __could__ be normal. It doesn't present a particularly __helpful__ scenario for finding her a __wand__, of course..._ his musing continues with some chagrin,_ but it seems they'd make a handsome __tree__ together._

Standing on the other side of Bella as the effort progresses, Edward is silently pleased by Mr. Ollivander's close but not-threateningly-_accurate_ thoughts, while also appreciative of the periodic mental witticisms that cross his mind. Aside from being somewhat interesting in their own right, such internal humor remains a good sign that their esteemed host hasn't started to become uncomfortable with, or suspicious of, his family's presence.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Much as how the importance of each of seven key symbols (making up a cosmic phone number of sorts) was admirably explained within the original Stargate movie (which I recommend, btw), the wizarding world has come to learn that any self-aware identity of a three-dimensional universe will similarly end up defining itself in _seven_ key ways. Six of these ways involve the conscious and/or subconscious aspects of their being which establish who they _are_ both to themselves and society, while the seventh (embodied by the underlying nature of their _choices_) establishes the way they are _going_. Visually, this can be illustrated as six points (3 sets of 2) which together define the x, y, and z axes of the world-view one's center point lives within. The seventh point, plotted independent of these, shows its course of movement.

Incidentally, this concept of self-definition is an inherent part of the universal significance of the number seven, and all symbolisms that are ultimately derived from it. No wonder Albus is so keen about the importance of one's choices! And just maybe, this is how Alice can actually _know_ what path any given person is on (given world-view parameters she is familiar with), while they are on it.

Suffice it to say, two of the canonically undiscovered rooms in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic- are indirectly dedicated to the study of this concept...

**The room of 'Personality' is a prismatic paradise, wherein the three-dimensional auras of individual hues engage in constant interaction with untold others. Because of the ways these hues seem to like arranging themselves, over both the tangible _and_ ethereal spectrums, the wizarding world recognizes the 7 colors of the rainbow to be red, orange, yellow, green, aqua, blue, and violet. (This is, in fact, the result of integrating both dark and light versions of the color wheel together: on the opaque color wheel, yellow is a primary color, green is secondary, and aqua is tertiary. However on the color wheel of light [such as experienced with RGB computer screens] green is primary, aqua and yellow are secondary colors, and orange is tertiary. The sequence forms a pattern when they are put together: P/P, s/t, P/s, s/P, t/s, P/P, s/s… which establishes that aqua ultimately has as much claim to its place in the rainbow as orange does. Violet is ultimately the odd one out, since it's uniquely double secondary. Tellingly, both light and dark versions of this hue have been classified _together _by human wizards whose natural range of vision is only capable of discerning _one_ of them [hence the 7-color rainbow]… while vampires, whose visual scope can easily distinguish between them _both_, recognize an 8-color rainbow.)

**Immediately adjoining it is the room dedicated to understanding the ethereal nature of _numbers_- the most _basic_ elements of symbolism- which has become intradepartmentally known as 'Area 42'. (This number, according to the 'Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' wizards' novel by Douglas Adams, is said to be the answer to 'Life, the Universe, and Everything'. Incidentally, they've discovered that the idea has merit. 'Perspective', being the product of 'world-view' and 'individual choice', =3x2x7, which equals 42.)

Thanks for reading! And every sweet comment you share. :) We'll get a better sense of what content is _in_ Ollivander's fascinating book, next chapter. Until next time... :) Enjoy!


	32. A Wanderer's Smorgasbord, First Course

* * * A Wanderer's Smorgasbord, First Course * * *

In other news, the contents of his tome are proving to be _fantastically_ enlightening. With a thoroughness much more painstakingly comprehensive than the only meager textbook on the subject Edward has had occasion to observe, _every_ known potentially magical and at least _sometimes_ corporeal being or creature species has been laid bare across their own two-page spread. Not quite _all_ of them are accompanied by a picture or sample collection to their name, as it turns out- but nonetheless each alphabetical subject has been portrayed in _scrupulous_ detail, with an eye for any information of potential value to the wand-making profession. Apparently, Ollivanders have long endeavored to keep themselves as prepared as possible for any circumstantially fortunate collection opportunity.

Indeed, it seems they'd have to be. Considering that the composition of the samples presented ranges everywhere from the easily donate-able hairs, feathers, and strips of shed scaly skin… through the more difficult-to-obtain creature-unique _living_ donations such as magically fossilized oral secretions and freshly preserved silk or stem fibers… to _heart_strings, tendons, and _bone_ compressions that can only be gifted from beyond the _grave_… it would seem that the various donor essences have just as commonly been obtained indirectly from a creature or being's _habitat _as from their living or deceased forms. That must be how so many difficult-to-approach species have come to still possess samples to their name.

And the creatures themselves! Over all the years Cullens have roamed across the North American continent, you'd think they'd have run across _Bigfoot_ at least _once_. But the peaceful giant hominids are in fact a magically protected species that have been kept painstakingly hidden away from muggle detection. Unlike their full- and part-hominid Far Eastern relatives, they are neither intrinsically capable of invisibility (the peaceful Demiguise) _nor_ violently inclined to remain undiscovered within their remote snowy surroundings (the Yeti, also called the Abominable Snowman)… and so require (and consequently enjoy) the benefit of _constant_ warding around their _unplottable_ forest reservations.

Speaking of the Demiguise, to the Cullens' supernatural range of vision- the invisibility effect active upon their fluffy samples shows up as a fascinating _mirage_ to the eyes. The ultraviolet shimmer would have been easy to overlook- if they hadn't known that there was truly something there to look _for_. (Incidentally, the tell-tale marks on the right-hand page, along with Garrick's treatment of it as any other _normal_ sample, had indicated as much.) Bella couldn't see the delicate tufts at all, though. Neither had either of the wizards been able to, Edward could discern- though both of them were aware of how they could have magically enhanced their vision to do so, had there been sufficient reason.

Emmett turned out to be most truly fascinated by the 10 species of _Dragon_, in addition to a selection of their rare hybrids, which had cumulatively taken up a full eleven page-spreads to properly present. The hefty predator scent emitting from their heart-string samples _was_ truly alluring, as animals went- _definitely better than grizzly_, he had decided- though it remained supremely disappointing that they qualified as an endangered species (as was the case with _most_ magical creatures). _Drat! They'd have been a meal so much fun to play with! _Of course, neither would the tempting beasts likely take well to life as a vampire's _pet_ (animals never did)… even if such a wishful alternative _hadn't_ been so entirely too conspicuous of an idea in the first place. _Sigh. The Peruvian Vipertooth has nearly as much of an instinctual taste for human as we do. It could have been fun to raise up such a creature as one of our own. _The mental image of Emmett throwing a drained bear carcass up into the jaws of the massive family pooch- causes Edward's lips to twitch with a silent smile. Simultaneously, Rosalie's face softens with tenderness at the childlike excitement in her mate's expression.

Jasper particularly admires the selection of Great Birds, comprised of six raptorial species worldwide which possess an average adult wingspan of approximately _50 feet_. _It's a size that rivals the largest breed of Dragon!_ Much more fascinating to him, however, is the ingenious fact that each breed comes naturally camouflaged to be able to fly incognito under specific weather conditions- both by way of its typical coloring, as well as through the illusory light-refracting effect of its plumage. _Incredible!_ Because of this peculiarity, the massive gray Thunderbird is able to fly _virtually undetected_ under the cover of rain clouds, just as a similar white species (known as the Roc) is ideally suited for flying during white puffy cloud weather, a light blue breed inhabits the cloudless skies, dark blue favors twilight, black revels in night flight, and red-orange only emerges during periods of sunset or sunrise.

Considering how difficult the size of these gargantuan avians makes the regulation of their wide-ranging habits, it's a very fortunate thing the wild birds are a slow-breeding, reclusive, and non-confrontational lot. Even so, a Ministry task force has been deemed necessary to keep them individually tagged for disillusionment, since they _have_ been known to carry off non-human prey as large as _elephants_ before, and any prey being carried away is _not_ similarly camouflaged from the keen muggle eye. _It's true: the image of a flying elephant wouldn't go over too well with them_, Jasper observes with amusement._ Of course, that also would explain why we've never seen them before._ Interestingly enough, their marked dietary preference is actually quite disposed towards _snakes_- of _any_ classic or hybrid variety… which fact has made them fodder for fanciful speculation among various wizarding circles. Popular lore advocates that with their exceptional eyesight, even inconspicuously part-snake _human_ creatures are _not_ exempt from this rule. Politicians beware! (To date, this claim has neither been proven, nor disproven.) _More power to them_, Jasper approves with a discreet chuckle; _they have good taste._ Alice smiles in agreement.

Edward's preference favors the Griffin: a majestically winged magical creature whose six-limbed form appears to be half lion and half eagle, yet embodies a much more fiercely capable and intelligent entity than either one of them alone. Though normally smaller in size, they've been said to be strong and fast enough to effectively take on a dragon. _So this is Gryffindor's namesake. I like it. _Curiously, their samples consist of both feathers _and_ hair strands from any given donor… the smell of each seeming to be biased towards the eagle _or_ the lion aspect it represents, rather than the balanced mix of the two exemplified by the living creature. This disparity ultimately has made them particularly difficult cores to tame for wand use.

In light of Professor Dumbledore's earlier admission as to the composition of his first wand, the Hippogriff entry strikes many of them with particular significance. Evidently, this species was born of the offspring of a griffin and a mare… a rare union of magical and non-magical species… whose progeny eventually interbred and resulted in a gene pool that could maintain itself. What causes this origin to be truly _remarkable_, however, is the fact that griffins and horses are well known for being common _predators_ and _prey_ of one another.

Thus it is, that in the same prophetically fanciful vein as one might be able to imagine a _lion_ could ever lay down with a _lamb_, a _Vipertooth_ would forego its human sacrifice, or members of the _Order of the Phoenix_ might ever happily intermarry with _Death Eaters_… the Hippogriff species has come to truly symbolize an _impossible love_… and for some- provides a very hopeful sign of its attainability. Incidentally, _this_ was the 'exacting standard' Albus had been talking about. _It's an attitude…_ Edward overhears the headmaster thinking,_ all about giving the divine snowball its chance in hell. You never know when such a thing could be the beginning of hell freezing over!_

_Indeed_, Edward quietly huffs in thoughtful observation. _It has already allowed the good wizard to embrace the company of vampires, such as we are- in a full state of awareness no less- and to bring us walking among his peers. _Once again, such a genuine acceptance of their nature is something he never thought he'd see outside of Bella.

Anyway, _because_ of this fantastical heritage- Hippogriffs are an inherently magical donor species that _demands_ respect from their owners, if it is to work for them. Owners in danger of losing the respect of their wands, due to some failure or another to consistently perform up to the standard set by it, inevitably experience a lessening of magical vitality in their spellwork- such that the power of any spell cast becomes too weak to be effective. This remains true until the wand is won by another, and/or such failure in its owner is remedied… and is why their cores are not widely used.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**Numerous details about the Great Birds have actually been incorporated from real-life legends that exist in relation to the Thunderbird, Roc, or Garuda (mythical parent of them all). The Garuda is said to have an implacable taste for snakes, for instance, and to be the father of six avian species.

In Newt Scamander's 'Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them' (made available to us courtesy of J. K. Rowling), no distinction is in fact made between the Yeti of the Far East and the Bigfoot of North America, though one exists. The aggressive Yeti is in fact part Troll, as the book suggests, and only their locally popular tourist names have caused them to be confused with one other when they live half a world apart. In the same vein, no cousin-species relation between the Demiguise and Bigfoot has been mentioned, though they are both similarly large, gentle, furry hominids by nature. Among Ollivanders, some speculation exists that the Demiguise may in fact be the parent hominid species of its geographical part-hominid neighbor, the Yeti. This may explain how it remains able to hide in the snow so effectively.

Newt Scamander's book also makes no mention of the Griffins' (or Hippogriffs') wings in its very brief account. However, their progeny (the Hippogriff) has wings that it didn't inherit from its mother (a mare), and so it is reasonable to assume that the Potter-universe Griffin does also. It's an impressive creature.

And finally, in case you didn't know, the first chapters of Essentially Magical's first related storyette (Encountering Oz: A Magical Detour) have now been posted to my profile. If you enjoy this story, I'd imagine you'll enjoy it too! It is being updated between times when I have new stuff to post for this story.

Thank you for reading, alerting, favoriting, recommending, and/or sharing your supportive comments!


	33. A Wanderer's Smorgasbord, Second Course

* * * A Wanderer's Smorgasbord, Second Course * * *

The Jinn page turns out to be one of the very few displays that includes neither picture, nor samples. Consequently, Mr. Ollivander makes no pause before turning to the next one. (Luckily, vampires have quick eyes! It would have been a real shame to miss out on learning about some of the most intriguing and legendary of mythical beings.) Evidently, they remain one of the most _elusive_ species known to the wizarding world. Initially discovered in Arabia, wherefrom they got their name, Jinn in fact live all over the world in their own remote communities. _Or_, so it is assumed; they are rarely ever seen (or more accurately: recognized) by humans. What _is_ known about them is that they are _spirits_ more often than not – freely capable of assuming partial (half-human) or true corporeal form (animal, generally) from time to time (often in mischief), though they _never_ do so out in the open.

Naturally, what has intrigued humankind about them for generations, is the fact that they are so _highly _magical – that they are capable of granting truly _extravagant_ boons of singularly _peculiar_ enchantment to members of the human race… that is, _if_ they can be convinced to do so. Only a privileged few have historically ever been benefactors of such an opportunity. This is probably due to the fact that – because they are an _honorable_ sort – their word is their bond; and cooperation with a human's desires has most often been sought after through _trickery_ and deception. Thus, there is not a lot of trust between species.

The subject of Merfolk is of particular interest to the Cullens – simply because sightings of them have featured prominently among known vampire legends. Over the centuries, Volterra's library has amassed numerous accounts of such beings having been _spotted_ by vampires; ones who doubtless will remember the occasion for as _long_ as they exist, and yet who – more often than not – have never been able to _find_ them again, once they reached the water. Presumably, this is due to an instinctual inclination on the merperson's part to _avoid_ vampire detection, in combination with the _massive_ size of their ocean home, and the inherent untrackability of underwater scents. It doesn't help that the sound of a vampire's _no-heartbeat_ movement underneath the water's surface _is_ rather distinctive… ultimately telling the native beings exactly _what_ and _where_ to avoid even as their own sounds blend in with the other fish of the ocean. Thus, a curious vampire is just as likely to set off in pursuit of a _shark_ or _dolphin_ in the vicinity, as the merperson they were hoping to discover… after which time-wasting disappointment, backtracking to their original position to start again would do them no good. _That_, coupled with the unwillingness of any that _have_ been caught, to betray their kin… is why their homes have never been found. (Admittedly, the fact that such folk are not particularly _appealing_ to the vampire palate, is also in their favor.) Poseidon's realm consequently remains one of the very few places where _intelligent_ humanoid creatures have been able to _hide_ from vampire kind, in their native element.

Most intriguingly, Ollivander's volume details the living habits of quite _a number o_f different types of merfolk worldwide – only some of which can be found in the salt water expanse. It's a _fascinating_ academic discovery. As well, it explains why – in part because of the less reliable safety of a much more _confined_ territory of movement – _fresh water_ colonies are always located in areas protected by _magic_. Commonly, enchanted underwater portals linking their lakes with other submersed locations are installed for their convenience, allowing for a widespread social network of isolated tribes unique to the fresh-water biome. The various species remain on friendly terms with the wizarding world.

Shape-shifters, a distinct class of part-humans occurring in isolated pockets of humanity all over the world, are another type of magical being the Cullens recognize with familiar interest – even though none of the wandmaker's samples are of the Quileute Wolf variety. Rather, his core specimens encompass such a _diverse_ range of (generally inoffensive and occasionally even _appealing_) animal-infused scents, that it is naturally highlighted just how _distinct _and _unique_ each tribe's heritage inherently _must be _from any other. Indeed, his tome confirms that each different animal form originally hailed from such an _entirely_ independent set of inborn attitudes and motivations – their spirit animals being naturally fitted to the purpose which caused them to transform – that it's only the similar nature of _manifestation_ that causes them to be related to each other at all.

Across the globe, the reasons for this transfiguration are quite varied – yet at the same time, strikingly similar: _protection_ from native magical (and non-magical) creatures and/or the prevalent natural disasters of their geographical locale. Bear-, bird-, crocodile-, mongoose-, panda-, and tiger- forms stand out among the generous collection of clan mascots, but the list goes on – their forms generally flavored by the religious imagery inherent to their culture, and possessed of unique physiological enhancements suited to it. Among them, an ancient _mermaid_ clan – the _only_ variant known to possess a _part-human_ (and incidentally, _always _female) shifted form – carries a scent that truly appeals. (Curiously, it also has one of the most _welcoming_ color displays of them all: collectively, they have no _green_ issue with Bella, and only a _red_ one with Edward.) Not much else is known about this reclusive and apparently all-but-extinct oceanic subset, however. What information and samples there _are _were difficult to procure, and have only come into the wandmaker's possession second hand. (Courtesy of the merfolk.)

Anyhow… Usually found _within_ the bubble of the wizarding world, but _occasionally_ discovered outside of it, shape-shifters all share the tendency to _imprint_, and the quick healing and more durable physique that is part and parcel of the shifting capability. It is that _former_ characteristic that easily gets them shunned from wizarding society, however, as no one likes the idea of their family's lives being abruptly overturned (sometimes quite inconveniently) by the pull of a sudden bond. (The fact that any two people so connected have unfailingly turned out to be _happy_ with each other, in the end – on account of the shifter's _utter devotion_ – is beside the point.) History has simply borne out _too many_ societally frowned-upon examples.

Ultimately, _brave _souls have theorized them to be living examples of how the _human_ race would have _magically_ evolved – _without_ the presence of wands. It is _not at all_ a popular idea among wizarding circles (not in the _least_, in fact; proponents beware!), but in each tribe's remote location – it seems that this is _exactly_ what has happened: the seed of magic within them ended up being focused into a _physiologically enhancing_ shape-shifting capability, rather than the more _consciously versatile_ wand-waving capacity. While it's _clear_ that many of their unusually adroit animal forms offer a degree of freedom most wizards _never know_… and _no_ spirit-animal tradition is _without_ its unique story of how – at some point or another – their lineage was only able to _survive because_ of it… the pride and ability of the wizarding world is such that the shifters' most feasibly _wandless_ existence simply cannot compare. (An interesting side note, however, is that it was an _outshoot_ of this original theory which formed the belief that every person spiritually possessed an _animal_ alter-ego. It's where the idea of the animagus initially came from.) In any case, due to the fact they remain a _human_-based species – their cores don't offer a high potency of magic.

Vampires of the biotic variety very easily (even if discreetly) catch everyone's interest, as soon as Mr. Ollivander turns to their page. Immediately it is apparent (to anyone in the know), by virtue of the animated community photo blinking up at them, just how _distinctly unique_ the general appearance of either type of vampire is from the other. They truly don't look anything alike. Being able to see this for themselves helps each of the Cullens breathe a little easier.

Their _origins_ are rather confusing, though. By the tome's extensive assessment of their inherent characteristics, it would _seem_ that they are a _hybrid_ human species that is supernaturally _capable_, but _not _magical (less even than humans, in fact). And yet – included is a _pedigree_ of sorts, which indicates that they _may_ in fact be a _full-wizard-blooded_ species of _squibs_, descended from some of whom are purported to be the biggest and baddest dark wizard names in _history_. _How_ then, did they turn out to be _vampires_? _(Some kind of genetic defect, maybe?)_ That part is a mystery. _As if the origin of our own species wasn't mystifying enough! I'll have to look into this_, Carlisle muses; Edward agrees. Incidentally, and unsurprisingly, this information is _not_ widely had within the wizarding world. There is no _doubt_ that any pure-blooded supremacists would go berserk at such a claim (even though it is solidly founded upon numerous first-generation accounts of their heritage), and would promptly endeavor to keep _any_ information of this nature a secret… by force if necessary.

Interestingly enough, the colorful character of their sample displays indicates biotic vampire kind to have at _least_ as much of a discomfort with Edward's nature as every_ other_ species has already shown. More so than usual, actually. _That's not particularly surprising, however,_ Edward acknowledges. _Predators are, generally, the most instinctually afraid of being preyed upon_… a psychological distinction born of the natural awareness of what they themselves promote. Of course, these are _also_ uncommonly _long-lived_ for being squibs. They probably like it that way.

The classic Werewolf entry, while of interest to note because of some of their recent conversations, turns out not to be so riveting of an account for them to view… because they knew most of this already. (Indeed, the Volturi's notes on the Children of the Moon, during Carlisle's tenure, had been quite extensive.) However, it _is_ pleasant to conclusively discover that a _real_ werewolf's prismatic response is in fact no more instinctually or consciously _repulsed_ by Edward – than any _other_ species has hitherto been. (Contrary to Quileute popular opinion, of course; _Take that!_ a few of them chorus in silence as some chuckles are shared between them.) Possibly, this is because – within the bounds of the wizarding world – the Volturi extermination hunt has not been able to _reach_ them. (Wizards are clearly more tolerant of the unfortunate species' presence within their community, even though they must actively work to protect themselves against the supernatural threat during _every_ moon cycle.) In any case, it's nice to know that – though the Children of the Moon inevitably _smell_ a bit like poisoned human mixed with wolf (_or_ poisoned _wolf_ mixed with _human_, when in their transformed state), they don't actually have an _offensive_ scent.

Winged Horses turn out to be a thoroughly fascinating note to end on. (Even if they aren't precisely the _last_ entry of the volume, they _are_ the last most interesting.) Comprising many different species all over the world, the winged steed has long been a symbol of personal freedom and power – inherently inspiring mankind with the simple fact that they make it possible for him to be able to _fly_. Although brooms, carpets, and other personal modes of transportation worldwide have lessened the _magical_ community's dependence on them considerably over the years (preserving the various species from _extinction_ during some of the more violent eras of history), the fact remains that they are more _domesticable_ and less _predatory_ than any other such naturally capable creatures… and that, consequently, their appeal in _muggle_ fantasy remains as high as it ever was.

Indeed, insomuch as vampire society has always been an integral product of that world – the fact of fancifully discovering winged horses _now_, after having been forever excluded from the possibility of _flight_ with them, taunts the Cullens with the loss of that freedom inherent in their symbolism. (Unfortunately, _no_ creature could ever be expected to fly with a _predator_ on its back – any more than it could be made into a _pet_; it'd sooner have a heart attack. And so, that option is simply not available to them. _Sigh._) Taking to the air is one of the few things vampires are not built to be able to do on their own… and if it had only been up to the technology and limitations of the _muggle_ world – the inherent restriction would never have bothered them. But – now that they've been introduced to the _magical_ world, where it truly _could_ have been possible… even allowing for whatever alternatives of enchanted mechanical flight have or have not become available to them, suddenly it's as if they've once again been fatefully left behind. It's not a particularly enjoyable truth to be reminded of.

All in all, it leaves them with a wistfully longing appreciation of the various species. Carlisle and Esme in particular admire the rare all-white herbivores known as Pegasi – companionably sharing a smile between them at the innocent image of the creature mythically painted to be the steed of the Gods. (Surprisingly, the majority of the breeds are in fact _omnivorous_, to one minor degree or another – and correspondingly come in many colors, shapes and sizes.) _Carnivorous_ specimens of another rare breed, called Thestrals, appear to be rather _hideous_ in comparison – but have the unique distinction of being visible only to those who have _seen death_. Unsurprisingly, Edward notes as he observes Bella keenly – every person in the room is able to see them. No one brings attention to this detail, however. What may in fact be a common occurrence among persons advanced in their _years_, wouldn't tend be so prevalent among humans in their prime.

* * *

><p>As Mr. Ollivander finally closes his tome, inwardly troubled by the thought of how singularly <em>un-fruitful<em> the effort has been toward finding Bella a truly suitable wand core, he can't help but notice that the same has also been true for _Edward_. _Does he already have a wand, I wonder? Or had I just assumed as much? They'd only requested one for her. If he does, I wonder what it is made of? It could give me a clue as to what would best work for his intended._

Simultaneously, Albus keenly notes that: _Conspicuously lacking from this grand collection was any magical being or creature species of the Undead… though the reason for that is easy enough to understand. Not a one of their corporeal forms is reputed to be safe to encounter, let alone accessible in any way for wand-making purposes. Of these, the only kind even remotely approachable by a wizard – in the form of the dementors – doesn't have any hair or loose body parts that could potentially be utilized. Not that anyone would want to try. It's no wonder the vampire core has never been discovered!_

And _suddenly_, Edward is struck with an idea. _Conked on the head would be more like it_, he chides himself wryly._ Legendary wand cores… Wand-kindred entities… The theory of wand-core donor compatibility…! It's a wonder we never thought of this before!_

Discreetly, Alice gasps.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Thank you_ everyone for your wonderful reviews, and _patience_. Have a wonderful Holiday Season!


	34. The Power of Preyers

* * * Compliments of the Chef * * *

She is _excited_. Her vision confirms this will work! She can _see_ Bella with a _wand_!

That _alone_ is telling.

As if in residual amazement, from the very real honor of having experienced the Ollivander family treasure, Edward runs his hand casually through his hair. A single 'plink' sound subtly vibrates throughout the room, but blends in enough with the quiet bustle of the street outside that only his family notices. Their thoughts reflect confusion and curiosity, mixed in with a cautious touch of hopeful anticipation.

It's obvious to everyone that not much in the way of a viable match apparently _exists _for Bella – even in light of the honorable wandmaker's so very generous and extensive collection. (Sadly, the fact that nothing showed true compatibility with _Edward _doesn't surprise them at all. _Sigh; it would have been nice._) In short order, Mr. Ollivander reluctantly confirms their suspicions: the best he would be able to do for her is fashion a wand from one of the mermaid-shifters' hairs (thankfully a _bit_ more magically potent than their less-mythical counterparts)… and hope that it would be sufficiently strong for her needs. But it would take a bit of experimentation. It's not a core he's used before.

The only alternative to this he knows of – the old proprietor rambles on freely with them – would have been if she'd had an _ancestor_ of a magical species that might have been idiosyncratically compatible with her by familial relation. However, being that she is obviously _all _human (as indicated by certain key details of her prismatic display; full-humans _do _constitute the majority of his customers, after all), and apparently even of _muggle_ descent (by her own earlier admission) – he'd already determined that to not be a feasible option.

He can't help but wonder if maybe her _beau_ could have this, though. From the prismatic trends he was able to observe of them, if something were to be compatible with _him_, it's rather likely to also be compatible with _her_. _And so it's worth a try_; his monologue pauses momentarily. Nerve-wracking though such a thing generally is to ask about (because some people can get _quite offended_ by the suggestion), the esteemed wandmaker turns to inquire tentatively of Edward: "Would… _you_… happen to have any ancestors of a _non-human magical_ nature… who might be compatible with her?"

And all at once the ideal opportunity for exploration has opened up before their eyes.

Pleasantly surprised by his question, and suddenly understanding of Edward's earlier action, his family is tentatively _excited_ by the possibility – having been naturally curious about discovering the magical qualities of the vampire core, and only _truly_ concerned about how such a thing could be discreetly accomplished. Even _more_ than this, however: with _Bella_ being the focal point – they're all very aware of what an opportunity like this would mean to _Edward_.

Sure enough, Edward is quick to step forward and amenably produce a strand of bronze hair, as if out of his wallet. If his explanation were to be believed: not having known what to expect, he'd brought along a selection of samples from a few of his closer _living_ relatives – on his mother's side – just in case they would prove helpful. _This_ happens to be from an ancestor with whom Bella has a particularly strong connection.

When Bella notices its color, she abruptly (but silently) looks up at him with wide eyes, recognizing immediately what he must have done. Trying to school her sudden excitement, she nevertheless is internally _thrilled_ by the prospect of a wand made from a part of _Edward_. (Her tell-tale speeding heartbeat garners a few Cullen smiles.) Even though the idea of having a wand in the first place is new to her, and thus of rather dubious importance, there's no _question_ as to the value of _this_ aspect of it.

At the same time, Mr. Ollivander is almost _giddy_ with excitement – though he hides it well. This development has not only provided support for his _hybrid_ theory, but _also _fuel for discovering what type of obscure magical being must be behind it all! _It's __got__ to be something rarely seen_, he surmises with burgeoning interest, _and most likely ethereal_. _There are so many of the less-tangible species that we really don't know very well, if at all. What better way to discover one of them, than through its heirs?!_

Strictly _professionally_, of course, the wandmaker now needs to find out as much as he _can_ about this fascinating core's donor – in order to estimate what the best wood match would be for _Bella_. It's a task he's _more_ than happy to accommodate… and so the questions begin in earnest. Personality characteristics, species trends, the nature of this donor's _relationship_ with Bella… he wants to know it _all_, though he'll settle for as much as they are willing to tell him about.

In helpfully guiding their host toward the wood composition of the wand in Alice's vision, artfully creating evidence in support of Garrick's benign theory in the process, Edward describes the core's donor as if _she_ had in fact been a spirit version of his own biological _mother_… putting particular emphasis upon aspects of her personality that match his _own_, as necessary. Having the same hair color, green eyes, and being very much in love with his father, she has always been very _doting_ upon her only son – and is very _defensive_ of Bella, more so than anyone else he knows.

Much of the reason for this, he smoothly invents, is that his maternal ancestors (along with half the ancestry of every _other_ member of the Cullen family, coincidentally) have never _intentionally _socialized with the _wizarding_ world (on matters of principle)… and _cannot_ ethically do so with the _muggle_ world except on rare occasions. (Most muggles wouldn't take well to seeing the equivalent of a _ghost_ in living color… let alone interacting with one in any kind of long-term capacity! They'd most likely die of fright, or think themselves insane.) Naturally, any _exceptions_ to this rule are very much welcomed and treasured.

_Especially_ in the case of his fiancé.

"You see-" Edward expounds, cleverly weaving the relevant truths of their reality into his carefully fabricated scenario, "Over the generations it has proven to be far less difficult for a muggle familiar to choose to be _wholly_ transformed into a spirit _themselves_, _or_ to accept their spirit companion as having a body like unto their _own_, than it has been to consistently interact with members of our _progeny_ species… who can neither remain totally _aloof_ from, _nor_ completely ever fit _in_ with, the tangible world. The metaphysical nature of our existence ultimately causes too much of a stress on their psyche.

"As a consequence of this genetic incongruity, yet in honor of the societal principles our parents uphold, we've had to band together for moral support, pose as _orphans_ to the muggle world, and ultimately seek for companionship from only among our own. However, there are _not_ many of us… and my mother worried about me _intensely_ when it became clear that there was no potential _mate_ to be found among others of my kind. The odds against my happiness seemed _insurmountable_.

"That is, until _Bella_ bucked the trend," he smiles at her adoringly, eyes glinting with a hint of mischief as she blushes for being honorably put on the spot. _It's absolutely true, though… and a praise she most definitely should hear about. _"She's been _ecstatic_ ever since… even _more_ so since the engagement… and has been an unequivocal _champion_ of our cause from the very beginning. Even, when it came down to us entering the magical world.

"She'd be _most honored_ to do this for Bella," he solemnly concludes, soothingly rubbing circles into the back of her clasped hand in response to the sudden wetness blooming beneath her eyelids. She _knows_ it's really _he_ he's talking about.

_Wow. _"Wonderful!" Ollivander marvels, with an appreciative nod. _Descended from __spirits__ that can transform willing __humans__ and take on corporeal form?! And a first-hand account of such! This is exciting!_

_Mind your business, though, Garrick_, he admonishes himself._ Keep focused. Hmmm. A principled and ethical, lovingly motivated, and particularly __defensive__ and outspoken core… in combination with her own noble complexity…; that sounds like maybe a __Rowan__-styled relationship. Yes, very distinctly_, he decides; _always a praiseworthy match. I have some of that excellent wood right over here…_

* * *

><p>As their illustrious wandmaker happily sets himself magically to work, Albus – who has been quietly marveling at the whole incredibly <em>enlightening<em> interaction – has insightfully surmised that this hair must in fact be from _Edward_'s head, and his story somehow reflective of the teen vampire's _own_ reality. _Neither a part __of__ nor truly able to be __separate__ from the magical world in everything __he does__…; I can see that. It's as if they live their lives like the muggle-born__e__ who can never truly reveal their magical heritage. _The tone of his thoughts is sympathetic. _It's fascinating, though_,he notes, as he curiously but patiently looks forward with captivated interest – to what _more_ the wand will eventually tell about its donor.

He's certainly not the _only_ one. Throughout the room, the anticipation is palpable.

_Alice must have seen this was going to work! Any bets on what he's going to think we __are__? What's he going to call the core?_

_He seems to be quite happy with Edward's story. Living spirit ancestors?! (Sigh.) If only. _

_If Bella is going to have a vampire wand, we're going to be __smelling __Edward__ every time she performs any magic. _

_At least __someone__ will be able to benefit from all of this. Magic looks like a lot of fun! It's too bad nothing has been compatible with __us__._

_If this works out – I just might want to try it myself._

_What a wonderful opportunity! One would think we __belonged__ in this world by the way Edward was able to explain our presence in it. It's mind-boggling how easily they can accept the supernatural._

_He clearly knows quite a lot about his wands. What is this one going to tell him about us? Not too much more, I hope. How exactly does he make them, anyway?_

_I wonder what Edward's prismatic response to Bella would have looked like._

At the same time, as everyone watches the creative process with fascination from their various vantage points, Edward's wandmaker's-eye-view offers him an invaluable explanation of every step.

As is typical of the procedure, once the core has been magically inserted into the unadorned cylinder of wood chosen for it, the two are then _bonded_ together… and the enchanted wood takes on a finished shape reminiscent of the _relationship_ it harbors. In this case, that means: simple, yet elegant. _Beautiful._

A side-benefit of this process, is that the _willingness_ with which the wood takes its new shape – in response to the bonding spell from his own wand – is an indication of its core's magical _potency_. Because this shift happened almost _instantly_, clearly catching him by surprise, it tells him that this core is _exceptionally_ strong. _Much __more__ so than usual. Mmmm._

_Delighted_ with this discovery of such a promising new core, Mr. Ollivander turns back to his audience to voice his findings while he further proceeds to weigh and measure it (utilizing his well-trained eye, expert hands, and a few lesser-known spells of his trade). "This wand is 10 ¾ inches long… very _dainty_," he handles it delicately even as he moves to flex it, "yet _remarkably_ sturdy…" _Nigh unbreakable, in fact – if indeed it isn't entirely! _he marvels._ Such a __stalwart__ little thing; I'd hate to be the one to ever have to try and destroy it…_

It is that thought which brings him to wonder what its bearing is; a conscientious _positive_ (or at the _very_ least, _neutral_) orientation is _imperative_ for a wand to be released from his shop. _Especially in the case of one so __powerful__. Its Rowan wood is encouraging to this end, though._

_Circumdabit afferentem! _he silently commands a spell from his own wand, testing it. _Indica __etostende! _

Garrick's eyebrows promptly rise in pleased surprise at the magical reports, and he looks up at Edward with new appreciation. _What an admirable heritage! _ "It… seems this wand will be particularly _exceptional_ at…" his voice infuses the next few words with awe "_Defense Against the Dark Arts! _… _e__specially_ when it comes to all kinds of… _physical defense_ – as well as being uniquely responsive to _unspoken_ incantations. It is _very_ powerful." _So __much__ so, that – if I didn't __know__ better – I'd think it could even be a sibling to the Wand of __Legend__! I might still believe that… except that __it__ was said to have a strong orientation towards the __Dark__ Arts. __Those__ are essential opposites that __just __don't __mix__. So, a rival then. Fantastic! It's about time we met its match! __I have to wonder if this wand could even shield against the __killing__ curse!_

With an incredulous expression on his face, Ollivander then turns to address Edward's entire family – his eyes naturally tending to settle on Carlisle. "I have only _rarely_ been able to find a core particularly suited to _this_ field of study," _a uniquely __loyal__ orientation, which creates a wand that can __never__ be dissuaded from the owner it chooses! _"…and _never_ one with this degree of _strength_!" _It seems a particularly __difficult__ trait to nurture in a personality. _"However has she managed it?!" _A __guaranteed__ positive!_ "Is it _possible_ there could be more where this came from?" _Please, __please__, let it be possible!_ "I _so_ wish I could meet her. What should I call your parent species? What would she want them to be known as?" The wandmaker's tone is delighted and eager.

Inwardly surprised by the complimentary nature of his findings, and also a little modestly self-conscious, Edward responds with a small smile, and a shrug. "I'm sorry Sir, but that has to remain a family secret. It _is_ possible, though, that I could get some more similar to it; I'll have to talk to my sources. If this _does_ work for her, I may have a few more to offer today where that came from."

Obviously excited by that prospect, Ollivander returns his full interest to Bella and, with a smile, offers her the wand to try out.

After sending her own nervously enthusiastic glance to Edward, Bella takes the wand in her hand and gives it a swish, only to be almost _floored_ by the profound warm-fuzzy sensation that rushes through her. "_Wow!_" she exclaims, stunned. Edward responds with a proud and adoring smile.

Throughout the room, the undercurrent of excitement is very clear.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** As much as I really _don't_ enjoy writing _deception_ into any of the Cullens' conversations, I have to admit it is an unavoidable aspect of interaction with the human world that they simply have to deal with. When it comes down to it, ultimately their choice falls really between: "Hello, I'm a vampire…" (_Aaaahhh! Scream of terror and unhealthy chaos in response…_) OR "Hello, I'm a friend," which includes filling in whatever imaginary details are necessary for humans to be able to accept that _greater truth_. Even though it may sometimes appear differently on the surface, they have _no_ desire to be dishonest.

The specific spells of the trade Ollivander used for his wand test were for the purposes of _identifying its orientation_ ('circumdabit afferentem' literally means 'compass bearing') and _finding out its strengths_ ('indica et ostende' is Latin for 'show and tell'). These details are always gleaned via a 3rd party spell aimed at the wand being tested (utilizing the wandmaker's own unrelated instrument), because any results generated by an _un-chosen_ wielder would be skewed. Finally, though the wandmaker would usually finish his testing with a flourish of the wand _himself_, in the presence of its potential master who is his waiting customer – he finds it more fitting (and polite) to allow them the privilege of its first use.

Finally, the _visual_ content of this chapter, in combination with the underlying truths suggested by it (originally cumulatively lumped together under the working title: 'A Wand for Bella'), happens to be perhaps the very_ first __crossover_ inspiration that went into the making of this story… and is what ultimately led me to seek out the context in which it could be _fully_ expressed. Very exciting indeed! (Well – I thought so, anyway.) It's been a long time in coming. (Three years last month! Almost two since publishing began.)

Thanks for sharing the journey with me!


	35. Compliments of the Chef

* * * The Power of Preyers * * *

Having finally discovered the _perfect_ wand for his challenging client, through an inspiringly unexpected process of events that has truly piqued his interest, Mr. Ollivander is now _more than happy_ to appreciate additional core samples in lieu of any payment for the instrument. To his delight, they are being generously forthcoming.

Although not every one of the Cullens is currently of a mind to offer such a sample, enough of them are to easily make it worth the wandmaker's while. Discreetly, four more hair strands make their way to him through Edward, _or_ Alice, in a color-coordinated effort to keep their identities anonymous. In the process of presenting them, naturally each one _also_ gains its own curious yet accurately character-fabricated story (aided by Alice's clear visions to that end)… and that little bit of creativity goes a long way towards cementing the veritable reality of their proposed supernatural heritage in Garrick's mind.

Of course, in coordination with all that's going on, Mr. Ollivander inevitably contemplates upon the inspiring possibilities. _Intriguing. T__he Cullens have made it very clear that they are interested in seeing wands actually be __made__ from these__ specimens__, in order to see how they turn out__…__(Fantastic! It will be my pleasure!)__… __and__ it is indeed possible that doing so could help secure their cooperation in making __more__ such samples available in the future.__ (Excellent! That would be wonderful!) _

_But__, I can't ignore the __danger__ presented by such a powerful core. It was truly fortunate that the very first quite possibly __unbreakable__ wand I ever made turned out to be a __guaranteed __positive__. (__Exceptionally __lucky indeed!) However, a Defense Against the Dark Arts orientation has only ever occurred sporadically at best; it could be __anything__ next time. I have to specifically ensure that __any__ wand made from these will to turn out to be positive. So: __no__ utilizing wood with a potential dark bent._

_Well, that narrows down my options considerably… though, still in a promising way. Hmmm. _His unfocused gaze passes straight through the distinguished headmaster as he's caught up in his thoughts. _ Let's try combining __Apple__ with this one then_, he muses as he selects the only blonde strand of the bunch. _Perhaps that would be best to do with the others, as well. In combination with these cores, the grain of its wood __ought to __consistently produce some __very__ powerful instruments… __for__ a__ prominent but select few that are devoted to the __light__. Though that may also make these particularly __difficult __to place – it's not just __anyone__ who will be able to handle such power with a clear head – they'll be __friendly__ matches at the very least_, he nods to himself. _Yes, I think that will turn out nicely. _

And so, he proceeds to fashion the first of four additional wands.

* * *

><p>Around the short golden-blond core, the length of apple wood takes on an informally professional appearance as it magically and instantly assumes its new shape. Subsequently measuring out to be twelve and one-quarter inches long, it is a truly <em>handsome<em> instrument. Silently, Mr. Ollivander once again takes note of the subtle but distinct signs of what may in fact be an _unbreakable_ wand. It's just as he had suspected might would be the case; probably a species-consistent characteristic.

What elatedly shocks and delights him to no end, however… is its _Defense Against the Dark Arts_ orientation. _Two__ of these! On the same day! Of the same type core! Comprising __b__oth__ of the __only__ ones I've yet created__! __Not to mention how much they each __excel__ at it! __The odds against th__is__ are humbling._Nevertheless, this wand is _clearly_ just as powerfully resolute in that capacity – _and_ in its apparently consequent physical defense capability – as the one before.

A fascinating _bonus_, which the wandmaker chalks up to the idiosyncratic character of its core (since it doesn't reflect an inherent quality of the _wood_), is that this wand also has an innate flair for _healing_… specifically, all kinds of _physical_ maladies and injuries caused by curses or concoctions of the _dark_ variety._ Such an invaluable and __extraordinary__ find! __Especially__ in combination with this kind of power. Oh, what St. Mungos __wouldn't do for one of these! _

Inevitably, as Garrick gushes over its glowing report – not at all shy about emphasizing the _rare_ value such a powerful, _unique_, and desperately _needed_ idiosyncrasy as this could provide to the healing arts – Carlisle can't help but pleasurably consider that he _might just want to make more of these available_. However, he makes no comments to bring attention to himself.

Nonetheless, Albus looks over at Carlisle with a subtle expression of awe, having correctly discerned that this core in fact came from _him_. _An untarnished soul_, he deduces with a deep sense of respect and admiration_._ So, when Mr. Ollivander unexpectedly interrupts his gaze and train of thought with the offer to perform the final test on the wand _himself_, it catches Dumbledore by surprise.

"I beg your pardon? Oh, gladly!" he accepts the instrument graciously, unaware of the subconscious hunch that actually prompted Garrick to offer it. The wandmaker and his predecessors have plied him with _many_ such new possibilities over the years, always still in the hope of discovering a more perfect match – and none have ever suited him. Albus has long since shed any worry over it. Nevertheless, he is happy to follow through on the generous opportunity once again… and does so with his usual, genial flair.

As if in the wake of a vigorous gust of wind, though no breeze in fact stirs through the air, with a simple swish of the wand all at once every surface in the shop is cleanly polished and dust-free. (_Untarnished_, Edward observes thoughtfully, recognizing the mental theme of the grandwizard's earlier preoccupation.) Only _this_ time – signifying a _first_ in his nearly 125 _years_ – Albus is stunned into stillness, and wide-eyed with shock. Garrick is _gleeful_. The suddenly humbled headmaster has never _held_ a more warmly welcoming instrument in his hand. This wand has clearly chosen its home.

Absently fingering its neat lines with reverence, as he gradually starts moving again – Albus' moist eyes gratefully meet up with Ollivander's, shift meaningfully towards Carlisle, then with respectful effort (not wanting to compromise the vampires' anonymity, after all) focus back upon Ollivander again. "Thank you," he tells the both of them with quiet fervency; _all_ of them, really. Regardless of the inconsequential amount he will now be paying out of his pocket to truly make it his _own_, he knows it is very much a _gift_ given of them, that he is able to have it.

* * *

><p>The residual daze of excitement never truly abates while Mr. Ollivander continues on to fashion wands of the three remaining cores. Each of these he proceeds to test out himself… but only after offering the option to various members of the Cullen family oddly to discover: that each one feels like '<em>just a stick<em>' to them. It's a _bewildering_ development, considering the clear potential of compatibility he _thought_ their heredity would allow. Yet, even _Bella_'s new wand in _Edward_'s hand – seems to do nothing at all for him. _So very strange__…_ he muses, _because there's no __question __as to how much __more__ significan__t __than __that__ they are for__ the rest of __us__!_

_Hmmm. __Perhaps __that means __they are too__…__genetically __close to the source? __Some__ hybrids __innately __clash with their species of magical ancestry__,__ though it's not common. __It seems to be typically indicative of some deep-seated conflict of interest in their makeup. __Maybe __this instance could be a __result of how they must try to __straddle__ the muggle and magical worlds?__ That __can't__ be an easy thing for them._

_Sigh. Of course, neither does that seem to leave me with __any__ options as to a core I could recommend to him – or to __them__ potentially – were they to ask for one. I wish I __could__! Do they have wands __already__, I wonder? I haven't seen them hint at any… although, it's not like they've had occasion to. But if so, __what__ could they have __possibly__ found?_

The mystery tugs at him. In the meantime, the wands they have made possible are a fascinating study.

The longest, most gently wavy brown hair of the bunch produces a wand _very good_ at Defense Against the Dark Arts… (_Again?!)_… only this time with a flair for _culinary_ excellence. Symptomatic of an actually much broader bent toward excellence in the _entire domestic environment_, and most certainly _powerful_ enough to perform _all_ such tasks with _inspiring_ finesse, Mr. Ollivander estimates that this wand would most beneficially grace a dedicated _mother's_ hand. Its simple yet majestic appearance denotes a truly regal maturity.

The short and straightest black strand creates another vigorous wand – having the most _remarkable_ preemptive capacity, of a kind that could uniquely make it possible for its wielder to perform magic even _before_ the idea of it became fully _formed_. Combined with yet _another _very strong knack for _Defense Against the Dark Arts_, its apple grain suggests it could be especially suitable for kinship with some charismatic _leader_ suffering from a permanent mental disability, and/or simply an adventurous pioneer who may need guidance as to where to go next. Either way, it appears to be _extremely_ well suited to anticipate and provide for their personal safety – and will likely prove an _excellent_ companion in dueling as well, because of its unparalleled reaction time. Curiously, Garrick has to also wonder if it will perhaps be inclined to recognize its owner _before_ they even meet… much like vine wands have been known to do. A creatively _swirled_ appearance hints toward a wise yet freely fun-loving disposition.

Last but not least, in response to the short and _curly_ brown core of the bunch – the apple wood becomes handsomely long, thick and rugged, though _not_ bulky, in appearance. Unerringly upholding the recent trend by _also_ being _particularly good at_ Defense Against the Dark Arts… (_Could this orientation somehow be a __family__- or __species__-wide inclination, then?!_ Ollivander speculates with elated amazement)… its curious uniqueness powerfully manifests by way of a near-_immunity_ to the normal, _practical_, physical limitations of quantity related spells. _It would seem almost __no__ task is too large for it; truly an invaluable __aid __for moving __mountains__, literally__!_

With each newly-formed wand in hand, for its final assessment a spontaneously silent spell from Garrick aimed towards his shop window (_and_ doors, _and_ walls) causes the whole glass structure to shimmer with color before apparently returning to its original luster. (_Cool!_ Many sounds of appreciation briefly acknowledge the beautiful display.) However, for those in the know – and to the wandmaker's great pleasure – the magical signature tells of the _real_ effect. The tensile strength of the glass has just been significantly and _permanently_ bolstered.

Pleased with the respectable outcome of their contributions, the vampires observe the humans enjoying their wands, wistfully.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** My estimation of Dumbledore's age herein is based on his birth year of 1881… and includes an extra ~10 years inserted into his experience from the process of combining the earlier dates of Harry Potter canon with the later ones of Twilight. In comparison to the Cullens: he is older than Edward, but younger than Jasper.

Thank you, everyone, for reading and sharing!


	36. A Cullenary Delight

* * * A Cullenary Delight * * *

"Absolutely marvelous!" Garrick praises with fervent gratitude… and it isn't long before the concluding details of their transaction are being sorted out. Bella's wand is _complimentary_, of course. He can't thank them _enough_ for the opportunity this new core type has afforded him, and hopes they will feel _thoroughly invited_ to offer up more such samples in the future.

Indeed, he is quite happy with their tentative offer to supply for additional wands, once they have a chance to return home and 'present his case'. Surely, the glowing reports of their wands' design – along with Garrick's willing promise to inform them, _if_ they would like, of the nature of _every_ specific wand produced and who it's matched to when it's made – will go a long way towards making that outcome possible.

_It already has, _Edward knows. _In light of these quite promising developments, Rosalie and Jasper __both__ have reconsidered donating for the cause… and the others are variously interested in offering up more. Truly, if __Bella__ and __Albus__ could be any indication… it stands to reason that __any__ odd person off the street our wands would ultimately choose – __might__ just be someone we would also get along well with, if not truly __enjoy__ to meet. As well, through such an one any of us could confidently __approve__ of – it seems we now have an unprecedented ability to __help__ the world… in such a way as apparently requires __neither__ hazardous daily interaction, __nor__ threat of exposure… __nor__ even the devastation of creating short-lived emotional bonds. A win-win situation all around._

His offer is gladly accepted, of course.

Additionally, following a clumsy moment on Bella's part (saved by Edward, naturally) which causes her to voice worry about her dainty-looking wand _breaking_ sometime when he wouldn't be there to catch her (even if it is '_sturdy_') – Mr. Ollivander takes the chance to inform them of his belief in this core's _extreme durability_… to a concerning degree, even. Truth be told: he's not sure he would be able to _unmake_ any wand of this core-type that turned out _wrongly_. In response to his fears, the Cullens willingly offer their services to take back and see to the _destruction _of any wand that he could ever find unfit to be sold from their families' cores, _just in case_. (The fact that Alice can clearly see nothing of the sort will ever become _necessary_, is definitely encouraging.) This promise comes as a liberating relief to the renowned wandmaker, because it will allow him to truly experiment with a clear conscience.

Finally, as the purchase of Mr. Dumbledore's obviously treasured _Cullen_-core wand is happening in the background, Bella can't help but marvelingly reflect upon the surprising and _amazing_ circumstances surrounding her _own_. Her wand is _of_ Edward – truly a _welcome_ manifestation of his _being_ – and was even acquired in such a way as didn't require them to outlay _any_ money for it. For the first time, her vampire has managed to 'buy' her a gift that she could truly _love_ to receive. (_A 'finally!' for him_, she knows, unable to keep from smiling her pleasure at him with a blush.) It feels _so_ good in her hand.

Admittedly, what she's going to _do_ with it, now that she has it – she's not entirely sure. Magic is too _strange_ a phenomenon for Charlie's world… and as yet – still pretty strange for even hers. Much more concernedly problematic, however, is that: _The Cullens don't __have__ any wands of their own, and it's clear their prospects are a __lot__ less promising than mine were. What if they can't __find__ anything? What __good__ could ever come of having a wand, if I couldn't share the experience with them? _she frets._ If __Edward__ wasn't able to join me in the prospect of __using__ it? _The very idea of it just sounds so empty. _They __so__ much deserve to be able to have the warmth of a similar instrument in their hands; I __want__ that for them_. She sighs, frustrated. _But… I'm only __human_, she laments. _No magical essence there. _"I wish I could do the same for you," she silently voices her regret.

Because his hand is already splayed out comfortingly against her back, fingers playing with her hair in absent circles (_once the pending threat of her disappearance had passed, unsurprisingly he hadn't wanted to relinquish the security of their constant contact while still within the wizarding world_), Bella notices immediately when Edward suddenly freezes into stillness. Upon further observation, he's looking at Alice – who's looking back at _her_ with a wide-eyed and widening grin of excitement even as, beside her, _his_ lips twitch in apparent pleasure. When his gaze subsequently shifts to meet hers, briefly she can see just as much ever-loving excitement shining therein as well.

However, she _doesn't_ expect his _voice_, suddenly whispering into her ear, to be tinged with _awe_. "You _can_!" he tells her reverently, his quiet but fervid statement automatically catching every Cullen's attention with discreet surprise and _avid_ interest.

"You've got to be kidding," Bella breathes. _I'm __not__ magical; it sounds too good to be true._

But he shakes his head, watching her with earnest sincerity.

"Seriously?!" she asks doubtfully, not daring to hope. Yet when Edward nods once in solemn amazement, and Alice can be seen watching them both with a big smile on her face (backed by Jasper, whose enthusiasm is encouraging), her excitement spikes. _"Really?!" _she mouths, _"I can __do__ this for you!" _

Alice nods back with perky animation. Indeed, she and Edward both were quite pleasantly _shocked_ by the implications of her vision, after no core species had been shown to be conclusively compatible or otherwise useable in their hands. Still, the image was definite: _Edward was wielding a __wand__… which worked __fabulously__ for him, to Garrick's utter astonishment… and it was a wand which Alice could clearly __see__! _

_It __has__ to be Bella! _she had determined with glee. _ The only other wands I've been __able__ to see are the ones produced from __us__… and it was __her__ comment that triggered the vision in the first place. Yes! _she enthuses, running through additional possibilities to test and confirm the wisdom of her conclusion. The potential images are flying through her head at breakneck speed, all crystal clear and very encouraging._ At this point – introducing a sample from her into the mix __won't__ even have Garrick second-guessing our stories. Rather, you'll be telling us it actually very well enhanced them._ _Good job, Edward! He's __that__ sold. In fact: I see it would confuse him __more__ if we were to produce some-odd family member's human core (let alone a __lot__ of the same!) from among those we allegedly brought with us, as if such an unconventional possibility had been __something we'd planned to pursue all along… or, if we were ultimately unable to find wands at __all__. Oh Bella, you're marvelous! We get to perform magic!_

By the time Garrick presently returns his attention to them along with the query "Can I do anything else for you?", Edward and Bella are both smiling brightly at each other while his hand (the one not holding her ponytail, that is) gently combs through the hair at the base of her skull, causing her lashes to flutter closed while her head leans blissfully into his cool and pleasant touch. Suddenly sorry for interrupting the moment, nevertheless the renowned proprietor and Albus both can't help but smile at this clear show of affection.

"Actually, yes," Edward replies charmingly. "If it's alright, I'd like to request for one more wand to be made – as an experiment – to see if… _this_," he offers up a single strand of long mahogany hair, "could possibly work for _me_. While I'm fairly sure that it's not going to offer the same degree of magical _potency_ as the others did, or even as you might expect it _should_ – still, it's someone I'm rather partial to. If you'd be willing to give it a try, I'd be more than happy to reimburse you for the effort – even if it doesn't work."

Standing rather beside his human colleague at this point, and having immediately deduced the new core-donor's identity, Albus is at once shocked and delighted – suspecting that it _isn't _just by _chance _that Edward is pursuing this unexpected possibility. _A __human__ core wand_, he marvels._ Of __course__!_ he competently recognizes:_ these vampires wouldn't be in need of __power__, just __focus__. Wow! I wonder if __we__ of the magical world… would have __ever__ thought of that._

"Not as potent, you say?" the wandmaker queries curiously as he readily receives this new core for examination. "Why would that be?"

Edward shrugs. "She's human," he answers unworriedly, as he lovingly meets the eyes of his companion.

Ollivander's eyes abruptly widen with the realization that he's just indicated _Bella_ to be the donor of this core. _Human__, indeed! And only __just__ recruited from muggle society. No more than a __zero__ on the potency scale! Inconceivable, and yet… strangely, it all makes a hopeful kind of sense. It's __more__ than possible that the humans of their heritage would be able to succeed as matches – where the beings of their heritage did not. And she __is__ gearing up to be one of them. Already, their two trends have matched up __remarkably__ well. So, the only (major) question left is whether her distinct lack of potency is going to do him any good._

_It's hard to imagine it could. Our cores have only ever produced powerlessly __inactive__ wands; nothing more than a sad __waste__ of material. Add to that the fact that numerous more magical counterparts have proven inherently __unwieldable__ by any person of the same (or, occasionally, too similar of) species… and it's just not worth it. For those very reasons, I doubt a __one__ of them has been made in the last many hundred __years__. I'll hate to have to be the bearer of bad news. _

_And yet… if their genetic makeup truly __does__ favor their magical heritage – so much as to make them __incompatible__ with it – they might have a magic of their own. A watered down version of the original, no doubt, but still – putting wands into the hands of potentially magical wielders delves __into __precarious__ territory. Could a human-core wand actually __work__ for such a being? Provide focus, without magnifying any inherent capability to an unsafe level? I've never thought to consider it before. _

_Historically, on the few occasions hybrids have proven to be incompatible with their parent species, they were inevitably fitted with an alternate magical-species match. __Maybe__, that was more of a hazardous situation than we thought? If they had been at __all__ magical themselves, it surely __could__ have been… though, thankfully, no problematic reports ever came of having done so. Did their magical capacities stay within an acceptable range, then? (Because of their human roots, I suppose?) Surely we'd have heard about it if they hadn't; too much power going to their heads, and all._

He exhales slowly._ Yet, this is a __significantly__ more powerful heritage than most. Would putting a typical wand into __these__ hybrids' hands risk wandlessly enhancing an intrinsic aptitude to dangerous proportions? It seems that could be possible; maybe even __likely__… although __not__ if it had a __human__ core. Truly, if such a thing were legal to experiment with – I doubt an instrument of __that__ constitution would even be ethically problematic in the hands of a __full-blooded__ magical being! __Far__ too weak. (Not that the makeup of such a wand would be __evident__ to others from a distance, however; as soon as the first hint of such an instrument was discovered, we'd suddenly have __every__ magical species fighting for the privilege to hold one! Then, when most of them didn't __take__ to a human core – what a headache __that__ would be! Shudder. Better to keep them all wandless.) Still, __very__ curious. Very curious indeed. _

_Coincidentally, for any purposes relating to the testing out of this hypothetical viability of a human-core wand… I couldn't have __asked__ for a better set of experimental guinea pigs, figuratively speaking. Whatever magic their species may in fact inherently be harboring, they're still all only __hybrids__… so I'm dealing with historically __safe__ ranges of ability here. On top of that, their heritage is so chock __full__ of Defense Against the Dark Arts exemplars… that it would be hard to go wrong! And, he __loves__ her. Hmmm. Maybe, this could __work__. _

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** By the way, in case any of you might have seen it and gotten confused: the last two chapters' titles _have_ been switched since they were posted. :)

Thanks for reading and sharing!


	37. Signature Recipe

* * * Signature Recipe * * *

Because the proffered core is of Edward's oh-so-rare fiancé, who was chosen of a _rowan_ wand, Garrick can't help but imagine that the complementary grain of _elder_ might actually be the one for him. Theoretically, these details indicate _his_ will always be the closest and dearest relationship of _hers_, which fact could potentially satisfy elder's need to be with the best. Yet, the diligent wandmaker is reluctant to pair such a darkly-potentialled wood to a previously untried core. He wouldn't want to have to _squash_ the experiment prematurely, on account of the need to _destroy_ any wand that turned out poorly. There's already too much chance that such a thing will happen; he doesn't want to make the odds of it even _worse_. Elder has a tendency to do that. A small consolation is that: at least by having a _human_ core, the wand would be easy to destroy if necessary.

Unbeknownst to the preoccupied wandmaker, Edward is well aware of precisely _which_ woods his and everyone else's wands will need to be formed with, courtesy of Alice's visions. Already, however, it seems Mr. Ollivander is going to need a bit of help to avoid talking himself out of initially experimenting with some of the ones they'll need. _Bella doesn't have __that__ many hairs to spare all in one day; our efforts need to be efficient. _Thus, in response to a few discreet and timely requests in direct correlation with the learned wizard's train of _thought_, gentle nudges from Jasper's talent encourage Mr. Ollivander to override his reluctances, and accept their hints as necessary.

Meanwhile, Albus – who is also unknowingly standing within the influence of Jasper's talent – is feeling suddenly confused by the odd course of his thoughts. Somehow, his own simple hankering for a lemon drop in the near future has morphed into a curious conspiracy of word games – admittedly fascinating in their own right, to be sure – but which have meanings that seem inordinately _profound_ in concert with the odd whims of his emotions, even as the significance of their conclusions eludes him. _'Lemon drops' = 'melon prods'; hmmm, keep going, that's not it. 'A Lemon Drops' = 'Op.(eration) solar mend'. Oh, much better! Though, I don't understand __why__. Grammatically incorrect, however, and uses an abbreviation; I'll drop the plural. Alright, so… 'a lemon drop' = 'polar demon'. Yes! That sounds relevant… and strangely exciting. Huh? Why is that? Well, in any case, I suppose it does fit with the vampire theme. Come to think of it, that sounds like an amazingly good train of thought to develop, so here goes: VAMPIRES = 'Voldemort's Abominable Mission Processed Into a Really Evil Species'. Hmmm. Accurate, in a way… but also quite biased and unflattering. Neither is it necessarily true (most thankfully!), so there's got to be something more appropriate. 'Veritably Ancient Muggle Persons In Red Eyed Servitude'? Good… and very possibly correct… though extreme age is unique to only the __U__-Vampire. So then: 'Unquestionably Very Advanced Magical Potential Inhabiting Respectable Entity Shape'. (Chuckle.) I like that one, and it's appropriate in current company, too, even if not entirely reflective of the species. _An imagined picture of the typical red eyes comes to mind. _Nope; it definitely isn't __that__. They are what they eat, it would seem. _

_But of course… _as his mental picture shifts to a view of the Cullens' golden eyes, it's clear he hasn't been associating their color to be in relation to the _blood_ they drink. _There's so much more to it than that. (Animal blood or otherwise, it's all still __red__!) Rather, it would have to mean they'd been chowing down on __sunshine__ all this time, figuratively speaking. Hmmm; like chewing on lemon drops? That's hardly in character. Still, if they __were__ – in a roundabout __undead__ manner of thinking, for sure – we would have this in common. Hmmm, how __could__ that work? LEMON DROP = 'Lacking Either Man-eating Or Narcissistic Designs…'; good but, uh… then what? '…Diamonds Rough Or Polished'? Hmm, needs work. 'Light Emitting Mature Ones Nevertheless Drastically Redefining Our Perceptions'. Oh, that's very nice! __Definitely__ one to remember. Okay then, so let's have the whole thing again: Lightly Eyed… no, no, wait – that's not how it started. Oh, I'm losing the thought already! We can't have that, it was just right; I don't want to forget this. Something about lemon drops turning polar demons into rays of sunshine…_

Edward mentally chuckles. Albus has never experienced Jasper's talent before, _clearly_, and this first taste of it is coming to him second-hand. _It's uncanny how effectively a simple emotion can direct one's train of thought. _Though the rest of them are plenty familiar with the anomaly of the experience by now, having felt it many times before, it's not often a _human_ has ever had cause to notice such an emotional effect that wasn't meant for them. (Truly, since Jasper became part of the family and learned about what mental processes use of his talent tended to spontaneously trigger in a person, he has always been very careful to only introduce an emotion when any _untargeted_ persons who _shouldn't_ know could be kept outside the flexible radius of his influence.) Inevitably, the effect really does a job on the thought streams of unsuspecting bystanders, and in the end: too easily makes them suspicious.

_Of course, that would be exactly why __Bella__ won't have felt this aspect of it before, __either_, he notes with curiosity, watching her. _I __wonder__ what __her__ quirky train of thought could have __possibly__ been about…?! Sigh._

Sure enough, as Mr. Ollivander initially proceeds to pick out Elder – _a strange first choice for him to have made_, Albus notes, _considering how much he treats that wood with prudence_ – almost like clockwork: the satisfied tone of the wandmaker's mutterings, combined with the tentatively confident atmosphere that remains, clues the investigating headmaster in to what must have _really_ been going on. As if a light bulb had just turned on over his head, his eyebrows raise and his head shifts to look over at Jasper… who is acting quite nonchalantly unaware of his sudden suspicion. However, when his eyes shift over to Edward, hoping for a confirmation of his theory one way or the other… Edward's lips twitch into a small smile. _Fascinating!_

* * *

><p>Due to the fact the experimental wand is comprised of a <em>human<em> core, it requires a whole lot of persistent patience to form. A painstaking _3 ½ minutes_ after the bonding spell is begun, the cycle has finally completed – and beads of sweat lining Mr. Ollivander's brow indicate just how _uncommon_ a degree of sustained focus this task has required of him.

Still, he is pleased with his work. The colorful grain lines adorning the simple 12 ½" wand seem to be indicative of a quiet beauty; an unassuming strength. _It's going to __need__ every bit of that_, Garrick observes astutely… _that is, __if__ it is going to be interspecifically compatible enough to work at __all__. Only testing will tell us that. Obviously, it's not as durable as the others were_; his fingers expertly assess._ More normal in that way. But thankfully a winning combination_, the wandmaker guesses. _I hope it will indeed prove to be useful. _

Nevertheless, when even _this_ humble instrument ultimately ends up having a _Defense Against the Dark Arts_ orientation – which thing Elder has _never_ before been known to accommodate – he is dumbfounded. _It's as if something about them __breeds__ it_, he realizes,and suddenly his hope for its usability desperately grows by leaps and bounds. Though it be powerless to _him_, such a bearing speaks exceptionally _highly_ of the core it's made of – as well as suggests that _any_ other wand made from it could very possibly be of the same orientation. _An unprecedented trend! Usually, I'd have expected any siblings to simply be positives, rather than Defense Against the Dark Arts oriented [as is typical of the righteously defensive core]. But – since, for the __first__ time, the most __dark__ prone wood of __Elder__ is sporting a Defense Against the Dark Arts orientation (!) – __maybe__, that won't be so difficult for the rest of them…_

_Patience, Garrick; patience_, he reminds himself. _Don't screw the experiment with your excited theories. __Test__ them first, then celebrate later. They're only any good if they're true. Oh, but I __hope__ they are!_

And, sure enough: with the first touch of Edward's hand upon the otherwise powerless wand – it comes as _alive_ as any other would in the hand of its chosen master. Garrick feels _giddy_. One theory most encouragingly down! And with a suitable core now identified for a personage of the Cullens' hybrid species: potentially a _lot_ more reason _and_ opportunity to continue proving the other! _I'm feeling lucky today! La la laa hum humm…_

* * *

><p>If Edward could cry, that's exactly what he'd be doing right now – holding this most precious treasure of Bella's in his hand, feeling its inviting warmth wash through him. Does she have <em>any<em> idea what she's just done for him? Her essence has _chosen_ him! Unquestionably above _all_ others, when there were _no_ strings attached. _No_ fears, doubts, or deadlines. No _limits_! _Never_ to be dissuaded; it's a done deal. Her _human_ essence. _Him! _She makes him feel _so_ special.

While Mr. Ollivander and the rest of his family continue with their wand pursuits in the background, now that the groundwork for them has been set, Edward simply stands behind his beloved, _cradling_ her in his arms, with his cheek resting against her own, intermittently moving to kiss her ever so tenderly. He's at a loss to express _enough_ just how cherished she's made him feel. Although, if her excitable heart rate combined with the way she responsively melts in his arms is any indication, _maybe_ she's gotten the message. _Oh I __love__ you, Bella – more than words can ever say._

* * *

><p>In the end, six more Bella-core wands are produced, each <em>impossibly<em> sporting a _Defense Against the Dark Arts_ orientation and displaying a _remarkable_ (even if humanly powerless) aptitude for defensive spellwork of the mental variety. However, the scope of this aptitude is not something that _Mr. Ollivander_ is able to test; the degree of its effectiveness will simply have to be discovered by each and every individual who can make it work in the first place. _Hopefully_, they will share their findings with him.

To the wandmaker's additional surprise, _every one_ of his human-core guesstimates for wood compatibility turns out to provide a _perfect_ match for one of the Cullen family members. Dr. Carlisle Cullen's chosen wand is made of yew, 12 ½"; _and given its Defense Against the Dark Arts orientation: a __hero's__ wand, if ever I saw one. Boy, wouldn't it be really neat to know __his__ story!_ His wife Esme's is Pear, and 11 ¼" long; _clearly the warm-hearted type_, Garrick admires of her. Blackthorn, at 11 ¾", matches to Miss Rosalie Hale… _A warrior's wand? Interesting. But its defensive nature ought to make them quite an effective team as they learn to work together_… while Miss Alice Cullen is chosen by a 9 ¾" Silver Lime. _Hmm, the wand of a seer. Some gift of insight must be hers, then – and this wand will surely help her to develop it. _The 12 ¾" Black Walnut instrument finds its home with Mr. Jasper Hale;_ truly the wand of an honest man!_ he assesses with confident approval, unwittingly causing its new owner to step back from him in pleasant shock. A swell of gratitude sensed from somewhere in the room shortly thereafter, encourages him on… as, last but not least: a 13" Spruce proves ideal for Mr. Emmett Cullen. _Someone with a firm hand and a sense of humor, I take it? _The wandmaker smiles. As curiously anticipated, every one of Miss Swan's _stalwartly_-oriented _human_-core wands is clearly capable of being used by any one of the Cullen family members, though none so well as the match that is their own.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** In case it might be of interest, the wand-woods matched to each character herein reflect the _relationship_ any core-donator has or would ultimately have with its wielder; information from Pottermore, via HarryPotterWiki, was a nice resource for this.

Just for kicks and grins, any theories as to what kind of hybrid Ollivander might think the Cullens are? :) Just curious.

Happy reading!


	38. Humorous Aftertaste

* * * Humorous Aftertaste * * *

In the end, Garrick couldn't have imagined feeling any more profitably favored had Lady Luck _herself_ come and sat down right beside him… carrying a whole cauldron _full_ of Felix Felicis.

It's really been _that_ good of a day.

Not only has he had the opportunity to meet a thoroughly _intriguing_ new hybrid species, _and_, through their heritage, discover the most _immensely _powerful core he's ever _seen_ (_truly the substance of legends!_)… but also: it has been his privilege to encounter the very _first ever_ apparently _family-line trend_ of _guaranteed positives_ (the reality of which still boggles his mind!), favorably substantiate not only _one_ but _two_ fascinating new theories (the second of which he had previously thought _impossible_ to do!), and inadvertently _prove_ the astounding character of a fellow human being beyond _any_ possible doubt. All of this doesn't even _count_ the fact that in the process he has additionally managed to: match _ideal_ wands to each of _nine_ extremely challenging customers, receive _three __impossibly_ rare and invaluable wands into his inventory, secure the possibility of collecting a _whole new_ series of invaluable cores for _future_ use, most cheerfully receive payment for each of _eight_ different instruments all in one _off-season_ visit (incidentally _significantly_ raising his revenue for the day; a minor joy, but certainly no less relevant), and permanently _bolster_ the natural strength of his shop's structure as well. _Surely, __wishes__ don't grant any better than this!_

Indeed, when _every single_ wand of Miss Swan's core material had turned out to be most singularly oriented towards _Defense Against the Dark Arts_ – _regardless_ of the dark tendencies common to some of the woods, incidentally _proving_ the potential for _more_ than just a guaranteed positive – it gave Garrick hope that each of her _fiancé's_ heritage's more powerful cores might _also_, when paired with other woods. _The mere __prospect__ of such an unfathomable outcome is positively __invigorating__!_

Most thankfully, along with any additional Cullen Heritage samples that will (hopefully!) be donated in the near future – he has already been assured that more hair from _her_ will also be sent (when she has more to spare, of course), for safekeeping in his core collection. _It will constitute the first ever __human__ inclusion. And what an inclusion it will be! If ever the Cullens, or any others like them, come seeking replacements or new wands of their own… but also if ever some __other__ type of hybrid might be best served by the newly recognized potential of a __human__ core… I'll have a sample on hand oriented to __ensure__ their enhanced magical prowess would never be nurtured to dark ends. An ethical win-win scenario!_

Not-so-surprisingly _just_ as the first note of the Alley clock's chime indicates closing hour – almost as if such fortuitous timing could have been _expected_ after _so_ many wishes have been granted, not only for _himself_, but amazingly also for _every other person in attendance_ – as Mr. Ollivander appreciatively and most respectfully bows them all from his shop while they gracefully depart, he can't help but fantastically wonder if… _Maybe…? Possibly…? Could there have been a __Genie__ in the house?_

It's an intriguing thought.

Indeed, as Edward monitors the wandmaker's captivated musing and residual activity even long after they've disappeared from sight along the crowded street… he can't help but be pleased and rather amused by the renowned expert's most educated conclusion.

Back in the newly dust-free confines of his shop, Garrick has promptly begun creating the first new tome entry of his tenure, while every detail of their _exciting_ encounter remains fresh in his mind. Under the admittedly less-than-desirable heading of 'Unidentified' (for lack of a better species designation), he magically inscribes the Cullens' first-hand account of their _fascinating_ magical heritage and outlines the _incredible_ characteristics of each wand that was produced of it. His own memory provides a living picture and exact description of the _hybrid_ line through which these cores were made available. Finally, and with a devoted and earnest thoroughness, he proceeds to speculate upon _what_, precisely, that heritage might actually _be_.

* * *

><p><em>Progeny species suspected to be Hybrid Genie<em>

_Though no member of the admittedly hybrid species in question actually offered any conscious hint to this end, in the wake of having just met them myself – I theorize that this unique family lineage may in fact be a literal combination of both the human and Jinn genetic heritages._

_Fantastic though this sounds, it can't be denied that the wands produced of their magical ancestors manifest a degree of power unparalleled by any previously encountered core species. Neither do its members resemble, in look or in action, any previously recorded style of hybrid being. This leads me to believe that the answer to their ancestral identity must be found among those most powerful of entities which have heretofore been so elusive as to produce neither recognized hybrids to their name (allowing for a pre-existing first- or even second-hand account), nor possibility for core collection (wherein their magical potency could have been conclusively assessed). Indeed, it stands to reason that only the hybrid offspring of such an insubstantially reclusive species, along with the singularly excepted human spouse involved, might ever know such a being closely enough as to have access to a tissue sample that could only be collected from his or her corporeal form._

_Moreover, the policy of avoidance they have previously maintained in regards to the magical world could very well be a direct result of the distrust caused by aware humans having sought their parent species out to take advantage. The fact that the first ever human fiancé of one of their members in fact gained their trust as a muggle – before discovering her magical potential – explains why they've only now come to visit the magical world they would have otherwise shunned yet naturally belonged in. In the interest of nurturing this tentative association with a positive rapport, I will keep their confidence. It is strongly recommended that all potential successors and otherwise informed parties should do likewise._

_Other characteristics of this hybrid species similarly appear to support the theory: Inasmuch as non-corporeal beings often have an aural effect on their surroundings in some kind of significant way, the undeniably lucky presence perceptibly manifested by the Cullens (to the evident benefit of all in their vicinity) could easily be a genetic result of having had one of the Jinn as a direct magical ancestor. Similarly, their ethereal grace in bearing (as well as in visage) may be a manifestation of how 'freedom of spirit' must inevitably translate into a permanently corporeal existence. The inherited marker of their golden-toned irises suggests a possible confirmation of the Jinn's mischievous penchant for taking on animal shapes whenever they've (publicly, at least) assumed corporeal form._

_And finally, the unique Defense Against the Dark Arts trend of every related piece of core material offered in connection with this family… coupled with the extreme difficulty of identifying any core species or individual suitably compatible with the only tested one of their members… I suspect – might actually be the result of a very competitively capable and thus strongly honor-bound heritage, which is only inclined to breed more of the same. Respect for this aspect of their natures, therefore, will undoubtedly be a paramount attribute of any person wishing to interact with them over the long term._

* * *

><p><em>Wow. Some very curious and keenly appreciated observations he makes<em>, Edward silently commends, nevertheless gratified that the intriguing wizard will be keeping these conclusions to himself. It wouldn't do for the topic of their origins to come under the public eye, no matter _how_ benign the theory linked to it. _And flattering as well_, he has to admit. It's a novel feeling having a human come out of an exhaustive initial experience with them feeling so entirely _lucky_… and not because of Jasper.

Taking note of both humans' need for a moment of refreshment before continuing on their way, Edward steers his family to settle around a corner grouping of tables outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. The evening is warm and pleasant. By the time everyone has comfortably taken seats with just a few ice creams in hand between them (Mr. Fortescue pleasantly surprised by the generous tip left on their behalf, for taking up so much of his available space)… Dumbledore has conveniently conjured up a protective muffling charm over all of them – permitting freedom of conversation at _any_ desired speaking volume or speed, without threat of being audibly or visually overheard. (It's a novel experience for all but the headmaster – this ability to safely talk with dangerous candor amidst a freely oblivious crowd of humans. Thankfully, something that Albus can _also_ definitely appreciate: now that every trace of his magic smells like _Carlisle_, his spells no longer instinctively turn their heads with wariness.) Coincidentally, because Edward is the only other who can initially be _certain_ that his spell is _effective_, Mr. Ollivander's conclusions are the first topic voiced.

Naturally, the Cullens find a good bit of amusement in his theory when Edward informs them of it.

One drawback of the wandmaker's beneficial conclusion being kept under wraps, however, is that it _won't _be there for the public to hold on to if ever their identities did come into serious question. Being that this is not a community they could effectually move _away_ from, were it ever to become necessary, their efforts have to be especially thorough in order to prevent suspicion. Thus – another theory or two, a bit more subtly promoted to the population at large, seems advisable. (Thankfully, the realities of the magical world are very conducive to this end. Under _normal_ circumstances, the science of the muggle world simply does not allow for anything so fanciful to be effective.) Perhaps… since the public remains unaware of the true potency of their magic, the likely guesstimate that they could be a more common style of hybrid – such as the result of a cross between a Veela and some other magical being, which had then blended with humankind – would be a good one to substantiate.

Emmett suggests this could be accomplished by means of providing some kind of magical joke material – not so unlike that sold by a few of the shops they passed – carefully designed to effectively muddy the waters in regards to the probable origin of some of the more unusual characteristics they possess. (_What a clever idea! Knowing what they now do concerning the characteristics of so __many__ different unusual and lesser-known magical species, all __kinds__ of alternatively viable connections could be made. And, of course: it doesn't hurt that the non-threatening approach of __humor__ could provide a very beneficial offset to the overwhelming fear wizards __would__ feel if anyone ever came to seriously suspect the truth._)

Neither would it be a bad approach, Jasper proposes, to thusly show the world how easily their similarities conversely _could_ have been the result of a familial potion experiment gone wrong… which lasting effects they had simply been unable to rescind. Such a claim wouldn't even be so far off the mark.

Given their newly-discovered wand-waving capacity (_smiles to Bella_), and the myriad of possibilities Diagon Alley has conveniently illustrated to them, coming up with a few gimmicks to anonymously manufacture doesn't appear as if it would present very difficult a challenge. Truly, identity ambiguation might actually be a very helpful focus for their experimentations with magic… though the long-term aspect of having to _maintain_ any kind of saleable supply, inevitably linked to the location of their muggle residence (due to the necessity of avoiding crossing magical tracking boundaries, or otherwise leaving inexplicable scent clues linked to the magical world), doesn't sound particularly appealing… _or_ secure. (_Just more homework – but with its own too-high potential of exposure in this case._) It would be most beneficial if they could offer the ideas to someone _else_ to run with.

Trouble is, Alice has already identified a significant problem that would arise were they to approach the existing business owners with such a proposition. How effectively could they keep themselves anonymous, when _every_ muggle form of electronic communication would be unerringly deemed unacceptable to wizardkind, even as the customary owl post of the wizarding world proved unable to work for them? (_Talk about traumatized owls, were they to even try! Poor things._) Snail mail wouldn't be sufficiently unidentifiable. There must be a way to beneficially remain aloof of the results they wish to submit.

Amidst the rather impressive concerns and potential solutions being voiced, Dumbledore's mind can't help but wander to consideration of the Weasley twins. This kind of approach would seem to be right up their alley, if he's read them right. But would it be right of him to _invite_ association of his students with these vampires, good as they are? Indeed, _volunteer_ them for it? That doesn't seem fair of him. In some ways, the less interaction the Cullens end up having with the wizarding community, the better… and he needs to help them effectively be able to accomplish that. _Less chance of debilitating exposure, absolutely._ Yet, coming from a muggle-friendly heritage and having _just_ reached the age of majority, Arthur's mischievous sons do seem rather ideally suited for such an opportunity. Would it be fair of him _not_ to give them that chance?

As the headmaster briefly yet silently weighs these options, only distantly aware that Edward is apparently (_and thankfully_) allowing him to work out his thoughts without interference, abruptly Alice interrupts his moment of introspection. "Oh, that's a fantastic idea!" she praises him guilelessly. "Who are Fred and George Weasley?"

And all at once, the choice is no longer in his hands… _if__ it had ever truly been in them to begin with, that is. (Nervous chuckle.) Honestly, her talent is as fascinating as it is humbling… _and in the face of such an innocently curious and earnest expression – which he's confident is sincere – he can muster no objection. _They're doing the __best__ they __can__ to not make their formidable presence a bane to the human world, whether muggle or magical… and it simply looks to be that this is the way we're headed. _Aptly recalling his earlier mental impression of being precariously poised atop a tiny raft floating down a frighteningly _fast_-moving stream – he reminds himself with a humored sigh: _Hang on tight; here we go._

Curiously enough, Edward can pointedly recall observing both twins at the Tournament (incidentally having noticed their indignant preoccupation with a certain Ludo Bagman, who fled from his goblin debtors immediately thereafter) and knows the biased judge tricked them out of their life savings by paying in disappearing Leprechaun gold when they won their bet with him, subsequently leaving them no way to fund their dream. They would likely jump at the opportunity of finding willing financiers.

With Dumbledore's appreciated help, a message is promptly sent to them… in the form of an owl-delivered invitation to meet up with a set of potential American investors he's run across, in case they might be interested.

Immediately able to witness their forthcoming eager response along with her eavesdropping brother, Alice and Edward share a humored smile as she cheerfully announces that the red-headed duo _will_ be able to join them in Diagon Alley shortly, if they just stick around a little longer.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Sorry for the update wait; thanks for your patience with me. As well, thank you for every wonderful review and recommendation!


	39. Dubious Blessings

* * * Dubious Blessings * * *

Meanwhile, there appears to be enough time to get everyone up to speed about the earlier events of their morning (or, as it is locally recognized: London's afternoon). _Starting with the booby trap_, they all anxiously anticipate… and Edward sighs in acquiescence. Immediately the family is all ears, as the focus unerringly shifts to what details only he can explain.

According to the minds that happened to be in the vicinity (notably: two wizards and a plethora of house elves) when they were transported to the Crouch residence somewhere in the English countryside, there exists a prophecy concerning Bella in the wizarding world which apparently Voldemort has _heard_ and Albus has _not_:

* * *

><p><strong>When the war of the Dark Lord is hanging in the balance, one shall appear who can change the tide <em>forever<em>. Marked by one of the sadistic, and protected by seven of the elite – the power lies with _her_. A magical debutante, foreign, and unknown; quintessential _twin_ of the Boy who Lived.**

* * *

><p>Evidently having interpreted this prophecy to mean that Bella's cooperation would be necessary for him to win the war (because if she were not his <em>ally<em>, she would be his _enemy_… and that would _never_ do), Voldemort had decided that obtaining her was among his top priorities. (Though what power yet _another_ child presumably not even of _age_ could have that _he_ did not, the tyrant couldn't fathom! The mere idea of it grated on his nerves.) Naturally, depending upon what that power ultimately turned out to _be_ – the plan was to be refined further once she was in their grasp.

Going on the assumption that their target must have been born with some significant magical ability, passed down through an uncommonly capable wizarding family line as _his_ had been (it was a foregone conclusion that she couldn't be a muggle)… and that she would, apparently, be showing up somewhere within Europe's wizarding community when the time came… Voldemort had initiated the creation of a grand _network_ of chameleon-like portkeys – set to inescapably single out from among her mass of guardians whomever it was that _matched_ the parameters of the prophecy – for prompt delivery to him whenever she did finally appear within the magical world. His attending Death Eater, conveniently disguised as a _rodent_, had subsequently managed the task of distributing the hidden traps throughout Diagon Alley – as well as every other center of European wizarding commerce – so that now, all he'd had left to do was _wait_.

_Which explains why __any__time or where they went, Bella would have been targeted. __Danger __magnet __extraordinaire__! (Frustrated sigh.) _It had been a clever plan. Being that the wizarding population continually walks down this street without trouble, there had been no reason to imagine that _anyone_ – let alone new and unfamiliar visitors – would think it necessary to defend from a portkey embedded within it. Let alone an attack coming from _below_. Incidentally, such a location was also easy enough for a _rat_ to place. Hence, the perfect opportunity. _Grrr._ _Leave it to the minds of a __snake__ and his __vermin__ to think of such a thing! _The little bugger even had teeth by which to latch on to her _ankle_.

Unquestionably, it had been a challenge for Edward not to wait around the foreign mansion long enough to be rid of the despot right then and there (he _so _would have liked to have eliminated any potential of further attack against Bella!)… but the consciousness was so supremely confident that it could not be _killed_ – that he believes it would have been unwise to _try_… because the action would have been magically inconclusive in a very potentially exposing kind of way. Already, his currently embryonic form _doesn't_ have a heartbeat. But even more ominously: the fiend is able to remember _everything_ about his previous life, as well as everything that has happened to him since then. Rather than risk fueling such a being with _far_-too-sensitive information, reluctantly he had concluded: he'll be better left alone until they can be sure it will be _final_.

As he thus finishes verbally introducing the gruesome, predeveloped creature that is the Dark Lord, Alice's face turns down in a grimace of recognition. "_That's_ Voldemort?" she asks him, picturing the image of a more recent vision as if it were a soiled diaper she were holding out at arm's length.

"Yes," grimly he agrees with her sentiment… then goes on to disclose what other details he had been able to glean from the encounter – such as the fact that Voldemort supports himself on snake venom and unicorn blood, courtesy of the death eater who cares for him. Come to think of it, _both_ of the two had been present at the graveyard Harry was summoned to on the day of the Tournament – intending to use him towards the overlord's rebirth – and the effort to acquire him to that end remains in full swing. In fact, a similar portkey network has been actively attuned to _Harry_ since prior to the start of the _previous_ school year. (Apparently, and very fortunately for everyone, Harry had never visited Diagon Alley that summer – which is why Voldemort had needed to resort to plan B).

Albus starts at this news, never having precisely known what needed to be defended against for Harry's best safety, and feels supremely glad for the fortune that has been theirs so far – that they have been able to harmlessly discover it. His concern is acute, not only because his beloved student would not likely have lived through the experience were Voldemort to have had his way (on account of the prophecy, doesn't Tom desire _his_ death above all others?), but also in recognition of the unspeakable _torture_ Harry might have been forced to endure in the process. Consequently, as _soon_ as their excursion is over – the headmaster will be notifying each of Harry's would-be magical guardians (Sirius Black and Arthur & Molly Weasley, to begin with; perhaps more of the old Order should also be made aware), and taking measures himself to help them prevent the threat of _any_ miscellaneous portkey getting close enough to activate within the vicinity of Harry.

Anyhow, as might have been anticipated (Edward continues his account by interpreting the images of Alice's view of the aftermath, according to what he knows of the Dark Lord's mind), Voldemort was surprised to find Bella not present when he arrived, and must have recognized by magical signature that she left by apparition… out of a room that had been warded to disallow it. Most _definitely_, this is a power he now wants for his own.

Indeed, Alice has since seen that they have repaired the portkey object in order to be able to collect Bella's blood from the near-encounter, and plan to promptly utilize it as part of a nourishingly enhancing potion for him. (Edward growls at the thought, and Alice apologizes that she wasn't able to warn him in time to retrieve it. _ It's unfortunate that our cell phones don't work here; we really need to find a good magical alternative to use!_ But of course, it wasn't her fault at all.) Unfortunately, she remains unable to see what will happen with the tyrant after that.

The only thing she _can_ still discern, is that he appears to be satisfied with what he got out of Bella. _For the time being, at least. _Truly, the 'magic' in her blood really must have been the thing he had most desired – because consequently, before her elite guardians could have a chance to become any the _wiser_ – Bella's portkey network had been promptly deactivated. There appears to be no more threat against her, from _him_, on the horizon.

"Of course, there's no telling what will happen once he realizes that Bella doesn't have the power he _thinks_ she has…" Edward's account trails off on a worriedly uncertain note, his gaze abruptly shifting toward his mentor.

Carlisle nods unhappily, musing. "…a power she apparently only has when she's with you," he voices aloud.

Troubled, Edward nods in acknowledgement… and hugs Bella's shoulder gently closer through the hair against her back. Clearly, this is why Edward hasn't stopped making sure he remains within as close a proximity as possible. Will Alice be able to see in time to warn them if he starts targeting Bella again?

From the other end of the table, Emmett whistles out a long, slow breath, hurting for his brother's all-too-reasonably doubled concern over the fate of his sister-to-be. _This is insane! There's gotta be a way to fight this. Somehow, we just have to get them targeted on Edward instead. He can handle himself, and I'll be right there to help him. Or, just me; that would be even better. See what they make of __our__ power. Come to think of it… _he turns his attention curiously towards Edward. "How do we know the prophecy wasn't a reference to _you_, rather than only Bella?"

Many faces of their party are brought up short by this thought, and turn inquiringly toward Emmett for an explanation. Edward grits his teeth, grimacing unhappily at what he has to say. The _last_ thing he needs is to be yet another reason why Bella would be getting put in danger.

"Well," Emmett begins straightforwardly, as if still addressing Edward, "'_the power lies with her_.' Aside from the fact that the portkey network didn't see fit to _exclude_ you, when it transported based on the parameters of the prophecy…" Emmett suddenly grins, inserting a mental eye wiggle for Edward's benefit, "we all know Bella doesn't sleep alone."

At this, Bella blushes brightly, and Edward's expression warns him away from embarrassing her further even as his lips twitch with pleasure just a little bit before turning worriedly back down into a frown. Given what services he has already provided against Voldemort through conversation with Albus, everyone can see now how clearly the prophecy refers to him. _Inevitably and dangerously, through Bella. Of all the predictions that could have been! Unfortunately, this doesn't change anything._

* * *

><p>In the wake of Edward's report, Alice remains inordinately silent… and frustrated. Recognizing this with concern, and already having addressed the most urgent subject (Bella's safety, of course), presently the family focus shifts over to what appears to be the next imperative topic: her view of the wizarding world. <em>Or lack thereof<em>, she gripes internally, having just realized one more aspect of it that bothers her. _Sigh. _By this point, she's had enough time to take note of some very alarming trends in her visions, as well as come to some rather uncomfortable conclusions. About these, the family will need to know.

Grimacing with reluctance, she begins by getting right to the most fundamental, distressing fact: she is apparently unable to _see_ anything about _biotic magical creatures_.

At first glance, this seems to mean that any – and perhaps all – of the living magical species they learned about today will be blind spots for her, in the same type of way as the Quileute wolves have always been. Of course, this much they had unhappily theorized upon already, in front of Gringotts… but what most of them haven't heard yet is that her subsequent experiments so far have only _proven_ it. _Everyone_ she's walked past since then, who has sported a scent any bit different than human, she has tried looking into the future of – _always_ to be thwarted. Some few had only turned out to be somewhat blurry to her visions – curiously, those whose human scent was _strongest_ – but all of the rest had been completely unviewable.

"It's almost as if –" she tries to explain with a humph, "I could lump every… _being _or _creature_ that exists into one of 3 categories: Muggles (otherwise known as 'Non-magical Biotics', comprised of both humans _and_ animals that we've regularly interacted with), Biotic Magicals (encompassing all types of natural magical life forms, along with probably also most hybrids of the same), and Magical Non-biotics (including_ us,_ the dementors, and Voldemort in his current state – all collectively known as the _Undead_, whose existence can only be explained by magic). Classifying everyone in this fashion, my visual capacity has seemed to follow _exactly_ along those lines that delineate the two extremes: _those_, I can _see_. It's only the _gigantic_ subset in the middle that I haven't been able to get _any_ kind of a glimpse of!" Her deflated sigh is clearly frustrated."Now that I _know_, I just wish it didn't have to be so _big_."

"There's more to this, as well," she grimaces, her nose wrinkling up in distaste. "When any of _us_ interact with _them_, _I can't see it_. Only once in a rare while are there times when they make us look fuzzy, rather than absent."

Carlisle raises an eyebrow in curiosity at this, not having previously known there was any exception to this kind of blindness.

Answering his curiosity, she reveals with an apologetic shrug: "It's happened a couple of times before when Bella has been with the wolves; coming home, or leaving to do something else. I never know when to expect it. Albus has been fuzzy every time I know Fawkes was with him."

_Interesting_, Carlisle muses, recognizing that he'll want to give more thought to this when time allows.

"But, even more insidiously than this," she continues unwillingly, "elements of their essence are also unseeable to me. That's why I wasn't able to _see_ Garrick's inventory volume, and have _never_ seen any wand that wasn't formed around a human or vampire core. I didn't realize until today, but such objects simply _don't_ show up in my view. There's no getting around it. And then… evidently, _potions _concocted of such ingredients will also throw out a big blank."

Jasper's eyes widen with recognition of the last fact. "That's why you couldn't see what would happen with Voldemort," he realizes sympathetically.

His wife grimaces in reply. "I think so."

"Can you see magic?" Emmett asks curiously.

Alice considers this for a moment before replying, absently puckering her lips as she does so. "Yes…; whether or not I could see where it _came_ from, I can see the light of it… and what effect a spell will have upon you, or any object of your environment. If you were going to pick up a handkerchief that would _snap_ at you, I could see that's what it will do. However, if that handkerchief were doused in _potion_," her voice rises a little, "or if – heaven forbid – you _drank_ that potion… I doubt I'd be able to predict _anything_ about it, or what it would _do_ to you… probably for as long a time as it stayed in your system. I wouldn't be able to _see_ you at _all_!" she cringes.

"Along the same vein," she continues more quietly again, "if someone were to weave a sweater of… say… Quileute _wolf_ hair," her serious glance shifts to Bella along with the pointed example, "I wouldn't be able to see _it_, either… along with the torso of anyone who wore it. Not that that wouldn't make you stink to _high heaven_ when I actually _met_ you…" she warns, "or otherwise make you difficult to detect in person – but that means..." her tone concludes on a poignant note of despair, "a simple magical creature _object_ can thwart my visions!"

_She wouldn't be able to foresee someone approaching under a demiguise invisibility cloak, then_, Dumbledore surmises, regarding the distressed petite vampire with thoughtful concern, _although I suspect she would be able if the cloak were only charmed_.

"Garrick noted," Edward interjects soothingly, and immediately she is comforted by what he is going to say, "that yours is the wand of a seer," he discloses to everyone. "He expects it will help you develop your insight." His tone is encouraging.

Alice appreciates his effort, and is encouraged. "At least that's something," she hopes, a part of her mind automatically branching off to wonder upon what she could possibly do with it. "Thanks."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** It should be noted here that Albus knows protections against the creation or transportation of an unauthorized portkey _are_ and _had been_ already in use within the bounds of Hogwarts when the Triwizard Cup fiasco occurred. The only reason Barty Crouch Jr. had nearly been able to succeed with his plan – was because he'd been in a position _trusted_ enough to create the singularly excepted portkey authorized to bring the winner out of the maze. As posted originally, my chapter 3 was not clear in this respect; it has since been updated to more accurately reflect this.

Thank you for your encouragement! I hope you enjoy.


	40. Anatomy of a Gift

* * * Anatomy of a Gift * * *

"So – how'd you do it, Jasper?"

Automatically, most everyone recognizes Emmett's new question to be a continuation of the interrupted conversation from earlier, and Edward and Bella both are curious to hear about what had clearly been missed out upon while they'd been whisked away.

Jasper's demeanor is thoughtful. "I didn't," he responds amenably. "Or, at least – I don't _think_ I did. What I mean to say is – I don't think it was _my_ attitude that made the difference."

"Really?" Carlisle asks in an intrigued tone of voice.

"Yeah. You know how," he explains carefully, "with emotions being as honestly _spontaneous_ as they are, it has always made a big difference to me what each of you were inclined to be feeling in the heat of the moment?" Various silent nods prompt him to continue with avid encouragement. "It's because of the fact _you're_ often my best mitigating force against the surges of intensity I feel coming _from_ you. Uncontrolled spikes and emotional dives give me whiplash like crazy, because I don't automatically have the tools to combat them. But on the other hand, every bit of the stability _you've_ gained, _I_ feel.

"That's why Carlisle's attitude has always been so intrinsically and venerably impressive to me. For as long as I've known him, whenever _every_ other response in the vicinity has been laced with the instinctually urgent lust of our natures, _he_ has been able to remain calm and unaffected by it. It has helped me out a _great_ deal, though I've never been able to figure it out entirely.

"Certainly, the emotional stability of his attitude provides a very effective balance to the primal surges of his own nature… such that they have never been a burden to me. But even more than this: it has been a fantastic gift of _perspective_… which, over time, I have learned how to apply towards everyone else's as well. It's largely _because_ of Carlisle's gift, that I can now call upon _calm_ when it is necessary in the midst of a conflict… and that I have as much control as I _do_ in the pursuit of our lifestyle.

"Still, in the face of the inevitable surges of lustful _intensity_ we are prone to – it has never been _enough_. I think, now, that it must be because his attitude – founded upon an _innocence_ as to human indulgence – has never been required to counteract any established desires of the same… and so it cannot. Thus, as much as it remains a helpful mitigator against the spontaneously unwieldy urges of those who choose _similarly_…" he nods to his family in grateful recognition of all their efforts to this end, then frowns slightly, "it has never been enough to overcome the ingrained desires born of having had an established practice of…" his voice lowers in long-held regret, "human _gratification_."

Sadly, he can recall _far_ too many instances of just how impossible it had been for him to consider abstaining from humans during the first 85 years of his immortal existence. No matter _how_ much he would have liked to have the option, prior to when he finally started to realize that he even _needed_ it, he didn't know about it then… and the traditional attitudes he was surrounded by only served to _exacerbate_ the instinctual craving, whenever emotional push came to shove. Thus, experience had taught him just how _absolutely_ the urges of bloodlust were impossible to resist. Powerfully a slave to his own nature, amidst such a violent immortal heritage, there had never _been_ a choice.

Even now, forever grasping at his only claim to freedom from that _un-life_ – graciously made possible to him through his eternally beloved Alice – too often still it didn't feel as if he could make that choice. Because, for all its many benefits – the vegetarian diet could never satisfy, could never quell... the unquenchable and _considerable_ bloodlust he carried within himself, day in and day out. Inevitably, the responsibility for any action he took upon _that _was entirely _his own_, and ultimately – no matter _how_ many others did or didn't happen to be in the vicinity at the time, or how dedicated they were to the vegetarian lifestyle as to make it easier for him – that was all that mattered.

"_So_ many times," he continues wistfully, "I've wished I could build upon that attitude in the spur of the moment, enough to truly temper the effect of my own desire… when instead I've simply had to be glad I could keep from attacking at _all_." _Or, alternatively, that the awful emotions of the aftermath could simply have been present in the beginning – to effectively dissuade me from it. But fate has never been so kind. As much as I've always __known__ it was destined to happen, the truth has never poignantly hit home… until it was too late._

"But, I suppose," he muses aloud, "it is a very different thing to experience a more general and all-inclusive emotional attitude, as Carlisle's has always been, than one that is geared especially to overcome so _extreme_ and singular a focus. Due to the fact that Edward's approach must have necessarily been able to _handle_ that kind of intensity, it was one I could _use_."

_It's a truly __remarkable__ achievement, brother; a night and day difference from last time. __Thank __you_. Jasper reinforces the sentiment by emotionally communicating his deep appreciation loud and clear.

Across the table, Edward bows his head introspectively. He has always known that it had been no less than _all_ of the family's spontaneous emotional spikes of desperate urgency and _need_ – most especially including those of his own magnified in relation to his _singer_ – that collectively made it impossible for Jasper to resist the temptation of Bella's blood in the spur of the moment (rendering him like a newborn, effectively). It's how his talent works… and the biggest drawback of it, certainly: the need to be strong enough for _all_ of them. Which is why he had always been so careful about Jasper's proximity to her, both when in and out of his presence, even while he trusted his brother. And why he'd ordered the entire family to stay away, once upon a time. There was no room for mistake.

But he hadn't realized how much difference the mastery of his own attitude would make not only for his brother's control, but for his sense of self-worth and confidence as well. No matter how incredibly _strong_ the necessary effort has ultimately caused Jasper to be, he's been carrying the psychological burden of everyone else's weaknesses upon his own shoulders for a very long time – often in the form of his own failures. It's a heavy burden. But most importantly: this was _my_ burden, that he should never have had to carry. _Mine_ had been the one that made this difference. Jasper's never been the one at fault.

_Shame, respect, and sorrow_,Jasper can feel from him, because indeed Edward knows: his older brother deserves every bit of the credit. Jasper has, _all along_, demonstrated a much deeper level of personal control and commitment than he's ever given himself (or often been given, admittedly) credit for. "My apologies, Jasper… for being so slow about it," Edward intones guiltily, and Jasper knows how deeply he means this. As both regard each other keenly, a moment of appreciated understanding passes between them before the empath nods in grateful acceptance… and Edward's face relaxes into a small smile.

* * *

><p>Last but not least, Albus has a bit of fascinating perspective to share.<p>

Having been mulling over the unexpected phenomenon of his wand ever since he was first granted the extreme favor of handling it, he can't but wonder at the fact that, somehow – it seems his entire _history_ has been leading him to this point. That's the only conclusion he can come to. Not that he was ever _due_ this fantastic boon in any way, shape, or form; far from it! But, inexplicably, it's as if – he had been unwittingly _invited_ to nurture the potential now resting in his hands, right from the very beginning. Aside from that, it could only have been pure dumb luck – with at least the seed of honest desire – that ultimately stayed him, through all the immature trials of delusion and misunderstanding in his life, on the course that has brought them here, today.

Because he has always been his own worst enemy.

Before he ever got his first wand, it'd been apparent he had a dangerously powerful aptitude for magic. Not that he'd had any inclination of the danger, naturally; as a child, he was carefree in his ignorance. Nonetheless, in the hands of an undeveloped mind, no matter how well-meaning – that amount of power was an accident waiting to happen. Especially, with his only magical parent newly and tragically out of the picture… only the wand in his possession ever truly had the capacity to humble his use of it. In retrospect, distressing as it had been for him at the time, no doubt it was a good thing they were unable to find his perfect match right from the start.

Back then, when a 7-color prismatic match could not be found, Gerbold Ollivander had taken a hint from his natural eye color (the eyes being windows to the soul, as it were) and sought out a _perfect _match of _blue only_, incidentally the color of _purpose_. By doing so, the wandmaker had been at the very least able to ensure there was – between wand and wielder – a perfect compatibility for continuing _on_ from that moment, together. That's how he had come to have a hippogriff wand, whose very nature was a challenge to keep his ambitions _noble_, and his efforts worthy of the _highest_ ideal, simply to ensure that it never had cause to stop working for him.

Much easier said than done. There had been many times, most especially in the immediate aftermath of his mother's death, that he thought it might. His ambitious attitude had always been heavily affected, throughout his youth – by the necessity of dealing with the loss of one and then both parents, amidst the ever-present damage to his sister… all while trying to uphold this lofty standard. It wasn't until after the immensely regrettable event of Ariana's death, that he finally learned how to stabilize his own commitment to live up to it… such that the wand had never threatened to fail him again. It had been a brutal lesson.

However, it had also been one that he'd needed. Years later, when he'd successfully found himself master of the elder wand – suddenly he'd been in possession of a _most_ capable instrument that would require _no_ uncommon effort from him hereafter in order to keep its loyalty. Which meant: it had only been his established desire to maintain the ideals of the _first_ wand, forever as a faithful backup, that had kept him from falling into the alluring trap of the second's immense power. It was a very dark power.

He knows this, because the wand in his hand now – feels nothing like it. Entirely pure and clean in comparison, contentedly he senses an inherent goodness in its power more potent than he could ever have imagined. _This_ wand will never tempt him towards misuse, even as it _feels_ absolutely loyal… and absolutely, no less powerful. The unconditional welcome of the sensation is _liberating_, honestly. Truly, the best of both worlds.

_However have they managed it? _

Most incredibly, living amongst humans as they do, each one of the Cullens can't but _live _Defense Against the Dark Arts _every_ moment of _every_ day. _That much has become clearly evident by their wand cores, inconceivably mind-boggling though it is. Vampire Doctor Carlisle Cullen, indeed; amazing!_ But, how do they _do_ it? How can _every one of them_ handle so much instinctually destructive power, on a _constant _basis, without it going to their heads? Must they have a 'first ideal' of their own?

_They have to have_, he can only conclude, knowing how tempting such power can truly be. _And of a type intrinsically consistent with a respect for humanity itself… if the core benefactor of their chosen wands serves as any indication. Certainly, it's not by accident that she yet retains this quality. _ In this way, these golden vampires have proven themselves to be walking exemplars of the undivided dichotomy; the union of polar opposites… _Masters of Love, in essence; nothing else could explain it_… which is precisely what makes their situation so unique. _Fascinatingly so._

Indeed, being that it is the tendency of _all_ creatures to excel in areas naturally in accordance with their (generally much less controversial) natures, the greatest weakness of most wand cores lies in the fact that their power can ultimately be utilized towards both good _and _evil ends. _Such as Fawkes' power has regrettably been made to do; ah, but at least the Death Stick has been put to good use._

However, the very nature of these vampires' _golden_ status – apparently due to an unwillingly darkness-oriented transformation, which spurred the active and continual choice _against_ it _(a living commitment; truly, necessity is the mother of invention!)_ – has required the unification of those most polar extremes into a personal _ideal_ – resulting in such a morally _intense_ type of power… that it could probably be applied toward _any _purpose _so long as_ it remained in line with the nature of that unifying concept.

Thus, he would venture to guess, _their_ wands' greatest weakness (_if_ it can indeed be called a weakness!), is that there would probably be scenarios in which their incredible power simply _wouldn't_ engage… because doing so would work against that benevolent ideal. _Incidentally, the very essence of 'Do no harm'. Dark_ wizards, or any others of a more dubious character thereby, would undoubtedly think of this as a weakness… because any wizard such a wand could _choose_ would have to be intrinsically compatible _with_ it. Abruptly, the nature of this conclusion rebounds upon Albus in a profoundly touching way: he feels intensely honored, and humbled, that such an one would _be able_ to choose him.

Lastly, as the headmaster finishes sharing every illuminating conclusion of his musing (all else heard only by Edward, who modestly shies away from the veneration of his assessment), Albus speculates that: though _all_ u-vampires clearly possess a magical nature (by virtue of their undead existence, among other things), it would appear they are unable to bring that magic to bear without an appropriately reciprocal _mortal_ focus. _Which I doubt could be found outside of an unconditional and entire esteem in the case of both parties, wand and wielder_, he surmises with a smile, eyes , he theorizes: that although every member of the species _has_ the intrinsic potential for it, only u-vampires selflessly devoted to being _vegetarian_ (and incidentally, oriented towards the side of _Light_ thereby) will ever find themselves capable of actually _performing_ magic. _Fascinating, indeed!_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **A talent-clarifying curiosity of note is that: if an emotion isn't something Jasper can _feel_, within himself or around him at any given moment, it isn't something he can _share_. Thus, many of the finer details of Jasper's talent had remained undiscovered until after he met up with the Cullens, simply because he'd needed to be in an environment calm enough to appreciate the subtle nuances of it. Incidentally, this is also a key part of the joy Alice has always known with him:

_He's always picked the best emotional choices available_, she devotedly admires, her inexhaustible hope absolutely and unfailingly renewed by the thought. _Which is how, given the options presented in any given moment, I know he always will. The trick then, is to forever ensure those options are what we want them to be… which is where I come in. (And why the Cullens were, from the very beginning, the right place for us.) Ah, it's great to be needed! _

It just goes to show how perfect a team they make together.

Another curious observation: very similar to the importance of the _blue_ for Albus, in relation to his compatibility spectrum, the prismatic 'tree' colors Bella and Edward experienced in their wand-matching also _happen_ to reflect either beloved's original eye coloring. Perhaps their underlying natures were trying to tell them something?

Anyhow, Thank you for such wonderful support and encouragement! I'm hoping to see more frequent updates of this story in the near future, now that my focus has returned to it. Happy reading!


End file.
